


you can turn my dirty world the bright way round

by variksenkello



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drug Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Sansa Stark, Psychological Trauma, theonsa centered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18827230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/variksenkello/pseuds/variksenkello
Summary: Modern AU TheonsaSansa and Theon are running away from their past, quite literally. The path behind is lined with mistakes and misery, and coming at a crossroads, they each have to decide where to turn next. To finally break free they must face their ghosts once more. The story follows their journey through heartbreak, breakdown and banter.---Theon Greyjoy was there, too.He was not cocky nor handsome anymore. He was as pale and scrawny as your run-of-the-mill junkie would be, with bruises and needle marks on his arms. He seemed broken. It was curious, how the change in her was mirrored in the change in him, and she wanted to grab his arm and ask ”What happened?”





	1. a fine mess

**Author's Note:**

> When I got into this glorious ship (way too late, man) I knew I wanted to write a new story for them, one with a happy end.  
> I wanted to involve the themes of isolation, guilt and shame that I think shapes their storylines and characters in the show, and the theme of bad choices as well. I also wanted to explore the implied "weakness" of Sansa (I love her character but what I've gathered some people see her as weak?). We often find ourselves weak in the midst of storms of our life. I think strength comes from withstanding and living through the storms, not from stopping them. 
> 
> The first chapter is a kind of prologue or setting of the scene, and what follows is much, I mean much, more heavy with dialogue.  
> Also, English is not my native language so besides bad grammar, there's probably a lot of inconsistence in the style, era and dialect of the vocabulary. 
> 
> The title is from Twilight Omens by Franz Ferdinand; the chapter titles are lines from A Fine Mess by Interpol.

 

 

I. a fine mess

 

 

Sansa had a happy childhood, she really did. She had her pack, a close-knit family. Sunlight on her forehead and birdsong on her laughter.

She was fourteen when it all started to go downhill. Her father was diagnosed with brain cancer. Eight months later he passed away.

” _Sudden deaths are the worst, you can’t prepare”_ , she had heard many times. She wondered if they knew what it’s like to watch someone dear wither away, slowly but surely rotting into nothing. She did.

 

Unlike some may think, visits to the hospice were not some touching family gatherings where everyone was smiling through teary eyes. The doctors may have had kind faces but they had treated her like a child, like she didn’t know what ”palliative care” meant (she didn’t but she knew how to fucking google it). They were whispering in the other room with mom, Robb and Jon, and she was left to find her own truths of the matter.

 

It was like the tumor was holding his father captive and made him act crabby and mean. Towards the end he didn’t recognize them anymore. And she didn’t recognize him, his face shrunken and wax-like. He lost control of his bladder and bowel and always smelt of piss and feces. She was scared of him and scared of losing him. Many nights she had gone to sleep half fearing and half hoping he’d be gone by the morning. It made her loathe herself.

In the end his heaving chest had been the only thing reminding her that there was still some life inside the withered corpse, until there wasn’t.

 

Tragedy may bring some families closer but for the Starks, it tore them apart. They had never really known sorrow and they did not know how to deal with it. Her mother fell into depression and could barely take care of Rickon, Bran and Arya, and the older siblings were left to their own devices. Jon started spending more and more time at the boxing ring. Robb tried, at first, to be there for her, but she wanted her mother, not a stupid big brother trying to parent her. So he gave up. So she was alone. She had been a happy child and now she had to learn to face pain.

 

She had popped her first pill shortly after the funeral (a sad affair, as her aunt would have said). It had been at a party of a friend of a friend, sort of. She had fallen in love with the high on an instant. She wanted desperately to feel something else than the dull aching in her chest. Even now her reasoning seemed sound to her.

 

Heck, she even thought it would make her seem cool. Give her a little edge. Toughen her up. Wasn’t that what they wanted? For her to stop whining.

 

That’s what lead her to Ramsay. She was just a pretty young thing with no money who wanted her molly nevertheless. And he was an aspiring drug dealer with a taste for pretty young things and an endless supply. So they made a deal, benefitting the both of them.

 

She found him to be absolutely exhilarating, the Bolton kid. He was a few years older than her, always with a black leather jacket and a lopsided smile. She never knew what was going on in his mind for his eyes were silver as a mirror, only reflecting her image. He was ambitious about his career as a juvenile delinquent, and by his side she was basking in the glory of it. They were welcomed at every club they wanted, and at fifteen she was happy to go wherever her mother would not have let her.

 

She turned out to be what you’d call an _addictive personality_. Maybe that’s why she fell for Ramsay. In the end she wasn’t sure if she was more addicted to the bones he threw or the punishment he handed out. It was oddly comforting. Ramsay saw her as the little piece of shit she was, treated her accordingly and still bought her roses sometimes. He made sure she knew it was all that she deserved.

 

She was seventeen when she packed her belongings and moved to London with him.

 

Of course, when she started dating her dealer, her former means of payment lost its value and she found herself needing money. Her mom felt bad for neglecting her and was happy to hand her money whenever she could. It was not enough to cover her expenses, though. At first she was lending, from her brothers and friends. Sansa had always been an excellent story teller but eventually they did find out where most of the money went. When lending was no longer an option, she stole.

 

By the age of nineteen Sansa was estranged from her family. _They didn’t want to be_ _acquaintanced to the bad apple junkie sister,_ she told everyone, fully aware it was a blatant lie. She desired to burn in the bright hot flames of oblivion, and they were holding her back. So she cut them off. Her path to self-destruction was wide open for her.

 

There was a time, around a year ago, when she got her act together for a while. It was after she had to have her forehead stitched, having forgotten to buy smokes. She reached out for Robb and Arya, and with their support, she walked away from Ramsay. She got dry. She got a job waiting tables at a beer joint. She got a flat of her own. The day she moved in still marked the happiest memory of her adult life. Her family were all there helping her bring in the boxes and the few pieces of furniture she had. Afterwards they were eating pizza on the floor and playing charades.

 

He lured her back in, of course. She got sick of everyone telling her how loved and wonderful she was. The only one who knew the truth was Ramsay. So she went back to him.

 

His leash on her was tighter than ever. She was still waiting tables and he took all she earned, leaving her with an allowance. He monitored her; _for her safety_ , he told her. She was no fool, she knew she was safer the further away she was from him, but _gods_ , did his sick take on concern feel good. She had no friends. After getting back with Ramsay she didn’t dare to face her siblings. And maybe they had actually had enough with her this time. She had nowhere to run, had she wanted to. Her isolation was complete.

 

He moved in and turned their home, _her_ home, into a hellhole. Pills everywhere, it reminded her of his father’s bedstand at the hospice. They were never alone when she came home from work. When he shouted at her or grabbed her, there was always a spaced out witness to it. Too bad they weren’t the kind you’d want to call to court. Guys and girls with dreary stares, heads lolling and vomit on their shirts.

 

Theon Greyjoy was there, too. He had been Robb’s best friend when they were still mere cubs but he had moved to Brighton with his father some time before her dad falling ill. She didn’t know if him and Robb were still in touch. She highly doubted it though, since Robb had just passed his bar exam and Theon was, well, there, shooting up speed.

 

He had been a cocky one, always cracking up jokes and making the girls laugh. He had been handsome too, with a nice tan and a curly hair he had a habit of touching whenever he felt insecure. He had been the first boy she dreamt of kissing.

 

He was not cocky nor handsome anymore. He was as pale and scrawny as your run-of-the-mill junkie would be, with bruises and needle marks on his arms. He seemed broken. It was curious, how the change in her was mirrored in the change in him, and she wanted to grab his arm and ask ” _What happened?”_

She didn’t, however. He was busy being a drug-addict and she, by that time, was busy staying out of Ramsay’s way.

 

Theon was in a sorry state indeed. He did errands for Ramsay to get his fix, and telling by the swelling of his knuckles and blood on his lips sometimes, it was not shopping for groceries. They started calling him ’Reek’, Ramsay and his band of thugs, after he pissed on himself while high.

 

One day they passed a bill on the minimum wage and she got a three pound rise. Something clicked in her brain and she chose not to tell Ramsay about it. It wasn’t until that one night, however, when she started formally planning her escape.

 

Theon was at their door, heaving and holding his stomach. He had been out collecting Ramsay’s debts and got stabbed in the process. There was blood all over Sansa’s hands, and she cried for someone to call an ambulance. Ramsay snorted and told her to let the cunt bleed to the end of his miserable life. She dragged him into the bathroom instead and did everything she had learned watching Grey’s Anatomy. After Ramsay left, she took his car and drove Theon to the hospital. She told a story for him, of a random guy trying to grope her and of him coming in between and getting into a fight. It had been so sudden she didn’t remember the guy’s face, she told them. There were drugs in his system but she was clean, so they believed her and that was the end of it.

 

She realized right then and there that it would have been no different with her, with her miserable cunt life, in Ramsay’s eyes. So she started honing a plan to save her sorry ass. Having a plan brightened up her smile and she started getting more tips at work. She started saving money. She befriended a girl she was working with, a sweet girl called Jeyne. She counted on her to let her stay in once she fleed.

 

There was one fatal flaw in her plan. She had forgotten that Ramsay was in essence unpredictable. The time to act arrived before her plan was finished.


	2. you and me make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had finally reached the inevitable end of the path she had chosen. She should’ve listened when they told her to turn right, instead of always turning wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: attempted rape, violence, foul language ahead.

* * *

 

 

II. you and me make

 

They were arguing, or he was arguing with her, and she was standing there in silence. Tonight was one of those nights when her silence worked as an incitement for him, only further infuriating him. He took her by her wrists and shaked her. Her limpness, her only way to live through it, angered him and excited him. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, trying to force himself on her. Something snapped. She hadn’t know there were any boundaries left for her, not until he had crossed it. She saw red. She was shrieking and her hands were flailing, grabbing for anything she could reach. She hit jackpot with a nail file lying on her bedside. She stabbed him in the side while trying desperately to kick him off. Ramsay cried with pain and his hands shot from her belt to her neck. Her breath cut off and her eyes watered. He shut her up, for good. She tried desperately to claw at his hands, but she could feel her head sinking.

 

She had finally reached the inevitable end of the path she had chosen. She should’ve listened when they told her to turn right, instead of always turning wrong.

 

_He is going to kill me._

 

She heard a loud, somewhat moist thud. Ramsay collapsed on her, and someone moved his body to the side. There was a baseball bat shedding blood on the carpet. Sansa gasped for air. Every breath she took burned her throat and tasted sweet as nectar.

”Are you alright?” Theon was already pulling her up. He looked utterly petrified but his eyes were clear for once. She could barely nod as an answer. She staggered to gather her things. A hoodie and a change of underwear. Her wallet. The other phone she had bought a few weeks back. A stupid keycharm she got from her dad when she was twelve and that she had been carrying around for all these years. That’s all she really needed so she left the rest.

 

”We have to go, we have to go”, Theon was sobbing frantically. Ramsay did not stir but they both knew he was dangerous as long as he was still breathing. Sansa took Theon steadily by his arm and led him out of the door.

 

The soft spring night enveloped them as they left the cheerless block of flats. The sky was ink blue, a few clouds like brushstrokes across it. Blackbirds were singing a good night, and it all felt very absurd to Sansa.

”Have a car?” she asked, wondering how she could stay so calm. Her voice was hoarse, her lungs were on fire and her throat ached, but it felt like it was all happening to someone else’s body, somewhere far away, only having a little to do with her.

 

Theon nodded. She took the keys from him – he seemed to be in no state for driving a get-away car. She pushed him into the passenger’s seat of a dented green hatchback and got them the fuck away from there.

 

”He’s going to hate me”, Theon mumbled. He was clearly on the verge of panic. She guessed Ramsay was holding a lot over his head.

”Fuck him”, she scoffed, surpised at herself. She didn’t know where her attitude came from but she sounded just like her sister.

”He would’ve killed me if you hadn’t come in between. So fuck you too for only thinking of yourself here”, she added, grinning like she had lost her mind. Maybe she had.

 

”Where are we going?” he asked her. The city lights were flashing past them in a blur of green and red and yellow.

”I haven’t decided yet”, she admitted. ”I had planned to go to a friend’s place but I’m not going to appear on her doorstep with a junkie like you.”

”You mean you had planned this?”

”The part where I was leaving him, yes. The part where he tried to rape me and choke me to death was improvised.”

They fell into silence for a moment. Sansa sped up as they crossed the city limits.

 

”Do you think he’s coming after us?”

Sansa furrowed her brow and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

”I don’t know”, she replied. She thought she had Ramsay figured out. However, it had become apparent that his contempt for her was deeper than she had known.

 

”Could we go to your brothers’?” he asked then. ”Robb? Jon?”

Sansa bit her lip.

”We could go to my sister’s, maybe.”

”Arya? Isn’t she just a --”

”She’s the bravest person I know”, she said firmly.

 

Arya’s jaw dropped when she opened the door for them. She was staring at her dumbfounded, like she had risen from the dead. Nymeria, their big black german shepherd was there too, eagerly sniffing the late night visitors.

”You look like someone’s tried to strangle you.”

”Well, that sums it up pretty nicely”, Sansa said. Her loony smile was faltering now that she was here.

”I did it, Arya. I left him.”

”For good?”

”I don’t think there’s ever going back unless I carry a death wish.”

Arya closed her arms around her and Sansa rested her head on her shoulder, crying in silence. Nymeria licked her hand in compassion.

 

There she was again, leaning on her little sister. Of course, it should’ve been the other way around. She should’ve been the one giving advice, a shoulder to cry on. Frankly, she had learned many lessons but she hoped Arya would never have need for them. She felt helpless, not knowing how to give anything back.

 

Arya scurried them inside from the hallway. Their flat was small and stuffed, and maybe that’s why it instantly felt like home. Arya’s rugby gear was drying in the middle of the living room, and Gendry turned out to be the type of guy with a bike so expensive it had to be stored inside the flat. There were a lot of books, too, and photo frames covered the walls. It smelled like sports and popcorn. Add a dash of pepper, and you had Arya.

 

Gendry, Arya’s boyfriend, emerged from the back, rubbing his eyes. Arya was swift to brief him.

”And who’s this scrawny fellow?” he asked, pointing at Theon who was still standing in the hallway. He looked skitterish and was picking at his nail beds nervously. He had been sort of lurking in the shadows like he did not want to be seen. Sansa guessed it had been his way of surviving the joyride of knowing Ramsay Bolton.

”This is Theon Greyjoy. Remember him?” she added to Arya.

”Theon? I didn’t recognize you. You look… different.”

A lousy ’ _yeah_ ’ was all he could muster up.

 

Having been surrounded with guys like him for years now, she hadn’t realized how miserable he actually looked until he was standing there next to Gendry. She probably didn’t look much better herself. She wasn’t doing drugs anymore but she wasn’t doing very well either.

 

Seemed like her little sister was onto it.

”You need a proper scrubbin’”, she told Sansa. ”And you need a scrubbin’ and a tetanus shot, the least”, she scoffed at Theon. Arya equipped her with a towel and a pyjama and showed her to the bathroom.

 

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. The fluorescent lighting revelead the disastrous state of her body. There were bruises all over her ivory skin, as if someone had gone mayhem with purple paint. Around her neck she could see the fingerprints of Ramsay’s violent nature. The rest of her didn’t fare any better. Her hair was clinging to her face, sweaty and disgusting, and the mascara she wore to work was smeared under her eyes. Her skin was dull and tired. She rarely got her eight hours of sleep and her nutrition didn’t exactly meet the requirements to ’unleash her inner beauty’. She had stopped giving a shit about her appearance a long time ago. The baggy hoodie and gray sweatpants she sported were a far cry from the frilly dresses she used to love and even from the leather skirts and fishnets she wore later.

 

She showered quickly. She didn’t feel like being alone for too long now, for she heard her pulse echoing from the tiled walls. Her body – all it’s aches, and the fear, making its nest right by her heart – started to feel her own again, and she didn’t welcome it. She patted her hair dry and put on the pyjama Arya had borrowed her. Arya’s pyjama pants were way too short for her but they smelled of the same detergent her mother always used, so it didn’t matter.

 

When she came back from the shower, Arya sat her down at the kitchen table and shoved a cheese sandwich her way.

”What’s he doing with you?” Arya asked and nodded towards the bathroom door behind which Theon had just disappeared.

”He helped me out of there”, she told her. ”Who knows, I could have died if he wasn’t there.”

Saying it out loud made her frantic. _She could have died._ Her breath quickened and her heart was beating out of her chest. There was suddenly no air for her to breathe, no matter how hard she tried.

”Sansa? What’s wrong?” she heard Arya from a distance. ”Sansa?”

Her head started to swim and she saw black around her eyes. She could have died. She felt like she was choking again.

 

_She was dying._

 

Theon was there then.

”Sansa, you’re having a panic attack”, she heard him say. He was holding her hand. ”You are safe now, you hear me? Just breathe with me, okay. In and out. Breathe wih me.”

_She could do that._ She was breathing with him, his voice raising and falling back like a tide. Wave after wave she started to calm down, as if he brought her gently to the shore.

”It was just a panic attack”, he repeated when she met his eyes. ”A completely normal reaction after everything you’ve been through tonight. Just keep on breathing and you should feel alright in a while.”

She smiled at him faintly.

 

”Listen, you”, Arya told Theon once he had actually gotten a shower this time. ”I’m grateful and all for helping my sister, but I’m going to say this only once. No drugs in this house, okay?”

Theon nodded. Sansa knew for a fact he had sheets of Valium in his pockets but decided to leave it till morning.

 

”You’ll sleep with me”, Arya told her. ”And you’ll sleep on the couch”, she adressed Theon.

It wasn’t the first time Arya was bossing Sansa around, but it was the first time she happily let her.

”Where am I going to sleep, my lady?” Gendry inquired.

”You’re a grown-ass man, Gendry, I trust you’ll find somewhere to sleep yourself”, Arya snarked, kissing him hastily on the lips before getting them fresh sheets.

”You sister is one cruel woman”, he whispered to Sansa, who replied with a chuckle. ”Fine, I’m off to Pod’s then.”

 

Arya’s phone buzzed, and Sansa heard her talking in the other room.

”It was mom”, Arya informed her. ”You have to call her and let her know you’re okay.”

”I’ll do it when I actually feel like I am”, she said.

”She’s worried sick. She said your phone was turned off. Please, Sansa.”

”Alright, I’ll text her”, she sighed.

 

It was way past midnight when the Stark sisters got to bed.

”Are you afraid?” Arya asked, her whisper tickling Sansa’s skin.

”Not when I’m with you”, she replied.

They fell asleep facing each other, curled up in a ball as when they were kids.

 

Sansa woke up with a startle. Living with Ramsay she had gotten used to it, bouncing up in the middle of the night feeling empty and restless, like she had forgotten something important. So if she had, she’d still have time to take care of it before him waking up.

 

The room was filled with a pewter grey haze, as the sun was only peeking behind the horizon. Arya was sound asleep next to her. She on the other hand was wide awake. She stepped quietly out of bed and tip-toed into the living room. She found Theon there, sitting on the couch straight as an arrow, fidgeting.

 

”Couldn’t sleep?” she asked gently and sat on the floor across him. She shivered as she felt the draft on her ankles, left bare by her sister’s pyjamas.

He shook his head. He looked even worse in the harsh white light of a fresh morning.

”Valium didn’t help?”

”Not anymore. But it takes the edge off”, he retorted.

”It does, doesn’t it”, she sighed and hugged herself. She rested her head on her knees. They sat there in silence, studying each others faces. The only sound was Nymeria growling in her sleep.

 

”I’m sorry for your father”, he said. ”I don’t think I ever told you that.”

”It’s been a decade.”

”It’s a long time to live without someone you love”, he noted.

”Well, if you look at it that way”, she renounced.

”Is there any other way to look at it?”

She didn’t reply. She stood up instead, shaking the sadness off her shoulders.

 

”I’m going to make coffee. Want some?”

”Sure.”

 

They sat across the small table, spattered with coffee stains. Arya had never been the one to fuss over such things.

”They’re good people, your sister and her boyfriend. I don’t think I deserve all that kindness.”

”Neither do I”, she laughed. ”They’re the kind of people who refuse to let that bother them.”

 

”What happens next?”

”I don’t know. I have to call work in the morning. And text a friend to let her know I’m okay. Other than that, I don’t know. You?”

Theon shrugged.

”Do you have anyone to go to? Friends? Your father?”

”It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone”, he said with a sorrowful smile.

”We’ll figure it out”, Sansa said with a counter-feit confidence.

 

Soon she was cleaning the kitchen and he was making pancakes for breakfast (he told her it was the only thing he knew how to make), like they were playing home together. Arya woke up, and soon the three of them were packed around the small table, eating blueberry pancakes with maple syrup. Sansa was glad for Arya being a loudmouth and keeping up the conversation. Theon and her were mostly silent, fumbling for words like they were learning a new language. The clatter of cutlery, the smell of coffee, sticky fingers and laughter – it all felt so foreign to Sansa now. Having breakfast together had definitely not been a thing in her and Ramsay’s life. Now, she realized, she could make any damn thing a thing in _her_ life. Breakfast seemed like a good start.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so now we have the actual story on the roll! As I said in my previous notes it's going to be a little different in style, with a lot more dialogue. I hope the pacing is not too abrupt; the flow of writing for me is sometimes quite different to when you actually read it. I don't like exposition for the sake of exposition, nor writing out all transitions, but I might be leaving too much unsaid. So I'm open for constructive criticism on that (everything else too).  
> I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for everyone for leaving kudos and commenting, it means a lot to me!


	3. deep breath, deep breath, keep grabbing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since she had stabbed Ramsay with a nail file she had not really given much thought to what was going on, what it all meant. She didn’t have to force herself to stay calm. It had felt like she was walking on water, like she was invincible. A runner’s high, she guessed, as running she was. Now it started to fade away, in the cold light of Saturday afternoon.

* * *

 

iii. deep breath, deep breath, keep grabbing

 

Over the second cup of coffee Sansa once again faced the dreaded question of ’what now’.

”You could stay here while you sort things out”, Arya offered.

”We are already cramping your style”, she said. ”It’s a lovely apartment, but it’s not big enough for four.”

What she left out was that she felt they were still too close to London and Ramsay. Besides, she hadn’t forgotten about the Valium in Theon’s pockets.

 

”Maybe you could go to Robb’s. He usually knows what to do”, Arya pondered. She was talking with her mouth full, as she had been as a kid. It stinged Sansa to realize how little she knew of the woman her sister was today. She didn’t know the quirks Arya had picked up from her friends, her exes, Gendry. She didn’t know if she had ever had her heart broken (probably) or had broken any hearts (surely). She had never seen Arya drunk. She had never seen Arya play rugby, for she had started after she herself had gone rogue, although she had been told she was excellent at it.

 

”I don’t know. I’m afraid of what he’d do”, Sansa admitted. ”I’m afraid he goes up, kills him and loses his lisence.”

”Only if he gets there before I do”, Arya fumed.

”Seriously”, she went on. ”I think it’s for the best. He has a cool flat just for himself. He can accommodate two fugitives like you. And as an added bonus, he may give you some much needed legal advice.”

”Robb’s a lawyer?” Theon asked in surprise.

”Yeah”, Sansa said, allowing herself to feel proud for her family. ”And the brat here is studying… what was it again?”

”Environmental engineering”, Arya grinned.

”Jon’s a kindergarten teacher, of all things. And Bran and Rickon--” Sansa trailed off. She felt a bang of guilt. How could she not know what they were up to, the youngest of her pack?

”Bran is studying philosophy and Rickon just came back to UK after a gap year abroad”, Arya completed her sentence.

”Look at them Stark kids doing well for themselves”, Theon said.

”I guess there has to be a black sheep in every family”, Sansa muttered. She got up and started cleaning the dishes, plates clanking louder than was necessary. Nymeria followed her and pressed her warm, fluff body against her leg as if to comfort her.

 

”I’d like to see Robb”, Theon told her later when they were sharing a cigarette on the small balcony that could barely hold them both. ”I’m not sure if he’d like to see me, though. Haven’t been in touch.”

”I’m sure he’d love to see you, Theon”, she assured. ”You know him. He’s as loyal as they come.”

”That’s what I’m worried about”, he said quietly. She understood him. For someone carrying all that murky shame and guilt, it was hard to look kindness in the eye. That’s why she had been in a haste to get away from them.

”He lives in Edinburgh”, she told him.

”I’d very much like to see the ocean as well.”

”I guess it’s settled then.”

 

Being face to face with her all-grey jersey uniform again she decided she wanted to do some shopping before they left. Theon accompanied her as they dropped by a local thrift shop Arya had told her about. She picked up a few pairs of jeans and an emerald sweater Theon insisted would look nice with her hair.

”They look good on you”, he told her when she was trying on the first pair of jeans.

”They’re just jeans, man”, she laughed and turned away to hide her blushing.

 

On their way back to Arya’s they stopped in a convenience store. They got cigarettes, aspirin, water and as many bags of chips they could carry for their survival kit. Theon burst into laughter when she came to the counter with a 7-pack of underwear.

”You’re not going to wear that, are you?”

”Why, hon, I got it for you”, Sansa quipped. She couldn’t help smiling a little. It was good to see him being cocky again. To know he still had it in him. ”I don’t think it’s the time for nice underwear. Or for you to be concerned with that.”

”Couldn’t we at least go to H&M or something?” he wouldn’t leave it be.

”When I get all this for £5.99? No way, dude. Besides, I need the comfort of soft cotton granny panties”, she said as she was dialing her pin code.

 

It wasn’t until afternoon when they were finally ready to go, although Sansa felt less ready every passing second. She knew Arya would let her stay forever, and if she gave her baby sister a chance, she’d convince her to. She couldn’t do it though. She wanted to learn to stand on her own feet again.

 

”Hey, sis”, Arya told her when the car was packed and they were just about to leave. ”Don’t go living with some kind of Sid and Nancy love story with Greyjoy either, okay?”

Sansa sneered. She glanced at Theon who was smoking out of the car window.

”You don’t have to worry about me any longer”, she told her.

”I’ll always worry about you.”

”Why? Because I made one mistake and I can’t be trusted ever again?” Sansa snapped. In truth, she was carrying a chain of mistakes around her neck and she was not sure if she could ever trust herself again.

”No, bonehead. Because you’re my one and only sister and I love you to bits”, Arya smirked. Sansa squeezed her tight and dried her tears and snot on her shoulder.

 

”Let me drive. It’s my car, and you drive like a madman”, Theon told her when she sat on the driver’s seat.

”Not until you get the benzos out of your system”, she said firmly.

”Fine”, he huffed and crossed his arms.

”Is there anything else I should expect?” she inquired, raising a brow.

”Whaddya mean?”  
”You know what I mean. Benzo withdrawal and what else?”

”Speed. Mostly. Monkey dust, pot, sometimes”, he confessed to the glove compartment.

”That’s it? Well, good”, she nodded. She started the car, blew a kiss to her sister one last time, and drove off the parking lot.

 

The city was teeming with people, and the traffic through the center was dead slow. Sansa realized it was Saturday, and the normal people were enjoying their time off with their families and friends, having picnics and going to museums and whatnot. Since she had stabbed Ramsay with a nail file she had not really given much thought to what was going on, what it all meant. She didn’t have to force herself to stay calm. It had felt like she was walking on water, like she was invincible. _A runner’s high_ , she guessed, as running she was. Now it started to fade away, in the cold light of Saturday afternoon.

 

She had stopped at a crosswalk and was waiting for people to cross, when her breath caught in her throat. He was there, among the happy families, staring at her with a cold smile. He was going to get her. She felt a sharp pain in her rib. He was going to stab her, as she had him.

”Theon, I can’t--”

Cars were honking behind her but all she heard was her own blood flowing in her ears.

”It’s alright, you’re safe here with me”, Theon said and put his hand on her shoulder. ”Just breathe, okay?”

_Okay._

_Breathe._

_The tide._

 

The buzzing in her ears died away and she could see the road again. Cars were passing her now, one driver flipping her off and yelling through the window, but she didn’t care. They couldn’t hurt her.

”How do you know how to do that?” she asked him once they were on their way again.

”I’ve had them since… Well, for quite some time. Panic attacks. I didn’t know what it was though, I was sure I was dying. A side effect of using IV drugs, you know. You could actually be dying. Anyway, I had one while I was admitted to the hospital. After I was stabbed, remember? One of the nurses was there and she assured me that if I was dying, it was because of my lifestyle and not panic attacks. She showed me how to calm myself with breathing”, he told her after a pause.

”I had no idea”, she said. The question was burning her lips again but she decided to hold it till he’d actually answer it. 

 

By Birmingham he was already drowsing. It was a six hour drive in total from Oxford to Edinburgh  but she decided they’d stay the night somewhere on the road. She suspected the welcome would be much warmer if he wasn’t going through acute amphetamine withdrawal. So she pulled over in front of some nondescript bed-and-breakfast soon after Carlisle and left him snoring in the front seat. After hearing the rates she returned to the car. She dragged the half-awake Greyjoy out of the car and lay him down  on the backseat. 

”Never slept in a car before”, she told his dormant body, as she pulled back her seat. ”Never going to pay 82 pounds for a creaky bed and a cockroach in my cereal.”

 

O nce she  had  closed her eyes she found the silence overbearing. She ransacked through  Theon’s backpack and found his cell and headphones.  2 6 missed calls from Ramsay Bolton. His Whatsapp was buzzing with death treats.  She made sure to turn off location,  just in case, before opening his Spotify app.  She didn’t remember the last time she had chosen what to listen to so she had no idea what to do now that she could. She found a playlist of his named ’tryna sleep’ and put the headphones on. It was filled with the kind of stringy 70s rock his dad had loved. It worked. 

 

S he woke up to someone tapping the car window in an angry fashion. It was the middle-aged woman from the reception with a scornful look to her face and pink curlers in her hair.

”I’ll pay for parking. And breakfast for two”, she told the woman once she rolled the window open. It had rained sometime during the night and the earthy smell of wet asphalt filled her lungs. It was cold for late April, and she regretted not bringing her coat. Well, cathing a flu was the smallest of her worries.

 

It took her quite some time to wake Theon from his slumber. He could barely stand straight and only mumbled something incomprehensible when she asked what he wanted to eat. She got coffee, eggs and toast for them, and he somehow made it through breakfast. She didn’t want to spend another night in the car so she thought wisest to find a place for him to sleep it off. She wished he’d sober up quickly. She started to feel lonely already, having no one to talk to.

 

She had a lot of time to think while she was driving again and she didn’t like it. She turned the radio on instead, found a channel with the cheesiest classics, and tried to imagine she was on a roadtrip. The subdued hues of English countryside unraveled all around her, foggy and hauntingly beautiful. What a way to explore them for the first time, running away from her drug dealer ex. She recalled feeling disdain towards the kind of people who’d spend their weekends outdoors, hiking the moorlands. It had all seemed so pedestrian to her, compared to her high-speed life in London. She had thought London was everything. Now she wondered if it had been only a prison all along.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon would be the kind of person who didn't care to set up a lock screen code for his phone, right? Or, Sansa'd figure it out coz they soulm8s?


	4. you’re always shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read quite a bit on amphetamine withdrawal but not having experienced anything like that first hand, this is probably a lame version of the truth. Also, for literary purposes, I didn't want to drag it out too long.  
> This chapter is kinda all over the place, with all the emotional mushiness. I feel good about these interactions though, as I think they were important. I hope you'll enjoy it! I want to thank you all again for reading, following, giving kudos and commenting, I really really appreciate it! <3

* * *

 

iv. you’re always shattered

 

Theon woke up around bedtime. He looked like shit.

”Where are we?” he groaned.

”At some motel”, Sansa, who was flipping through the tv channels, told him.

He searched his pockets, didn’t find what he was looking for and searched again.

”I flushed it”, she informed him, eyes fixated on the telly where rich housewives were shouting at each other. First came the locusts, then the plague, then reality tv.

”You did what?” he gasped. He stared at her in a frightened awe, as if she had just told him she had flushed a winning lottery ticket.

”Okay, fine, I sold it. Got us McDonald’s. Yours is right there, but the fries are probably sogged by now.”

He was horrified.

”Sansa, no. I need-- I need it to sleep”, he uttered. He sat up rigidly, clenching his fists. He looked feverish. His eyes were dark, bottomless pits of woe.

”You just slept 12 hours”, she stated matter-of-factly.

”I-- I---. Shit”, he got up and started to rummage through the bedclothes as if he wanted to desperately believe she was lying and had actually just hid his drugs under the pillow. He was frantic and sweating now, spit flying from his mouth as he cursed.

”Why’d you do that? Fuck you, fuck you”, he rambled. She shrieked faintly when he grabbed the bedtable and hurled it on the floor.

”I don’t need this!” she yelled as she backed away from him towards the door. ”All I care, you may rot here to death!”

She slammed the door behind her.

 

She ran down the stairs and through the front door. She just kept on running, not knowing what else to do. Her lungs were burning, her muscles were about to explode and her heart was bouncing like a kangaroo on acid. She ran anyway. She wanted to run away from everything, Theon, her life, herself. Her mistakes, all the wrong choices she had ever made. Her deep deep shame, swallowing her whole.

 

It was stuck on the bottom of her shoe like dog shit. No matter how far she ran she could never get away from it. She deserved it.

_Little piece of shit._

 

She stopped and struggled to catch her breath. She had no idea where she was. She found herself standing in a puddle of orange juice, spilled by a lonely street lamp. Other than that she was accompanied by a sprinkler and a few cars parked neatly along the curb. The doors and windows of the houses around her were tightly shut and unwelcoming. A dog was barking in the distance, emphasizing her loneliness. She crossed her arms to shield herself from the dark.

 

She could swear she had been running straight ahead, but the road behind her split into two. Nothing looked familiar. The small wind felt freezing on her sweaty skin and she was already getting cold; she had to start walking. She kept her eyes on the ground as a bunch of guys passed her, laughing and bellowing. She clenched her fists as they made crude remarks at her. She then noticed a nice-looking lady walking a dog across the street. Relief filled her like she had stepped into a warm bath. Only when she started asking for directions she realized she didn’t remember the name of their motel. The lady gave her a weird look over her shoulder before hurrying away, dragging the poor dog behind her.

 

She was chewing her lip bloody as she was trying not to panic. Her hair had fallen of its ponytail and it felt like it was strangling her. She clawed on her neck struggling for air. Who was she kidding? She clearly couldn’t take care of herself. She was weak, she was useless. Without Ramsay, she had lost her way in less than 36 hours.

The thought nailed her down, paralyzed her.

 

She spotted an odd, scarecrow-like figure in the darkness.

”Theon?” she called timidly. The figure hurried its steps.

”Where are your shoes?” she asked him once he was closer. He glanced at his feet unconcerned.

”Must have left them.”

They stood there, moonlight casting grotesque shadows on their faces.

”I’m sorry, Sansa”, he said. ”I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

”No, you shouldn’t”, she scoffed. She felt a swelling on her throat. Hell, she refused to cry because of Theon fucking Greyjoy. ”I trusted you!”

”You can still trust me”, he said meekly.

”No, I can’t”, she yelped.

”I’m sorry”, he offered again.

”No, it’s my fault. Should’ve known better than to trust a junkhead in the first place”, she said and shook her head in anger.

”Let’s go”, she barked at him and took his hand. She clasped it a little tighter than needed. He didn’t object but led the way.

 

”I hope you at least ate the fries. If you didn’t, I will. I’m starving”, she said as they climbed the stairs to their room ten minutes later. The way she said it made it sound like a peace offering.

 

After half a cheeseburger Sansa passed out.

 

She woke up to Theon sitting on the floor with his back to the wall and staring blankly at her.

”What--?”

She reached for her phone. It was 5:10 am.

”He called me”, he stuttered. ”Ramsay called me.”

”Did you answer it?” she bolted.

”I--”

”Did you answer it?” she demanded again. Her brain switched instantly to fright-mode, searching for a way out.

”His name was there. His name was there. My name was there, on the wall, written in my blood. Reek. I pissed on myself. I pissed on myself with fear. I’m a coward. Coward. I just left him. Left him to die”, he faltered. Sansa climbed out of bed and kneeled on the floor with him. He was shivering, drenched in cold sweat.

”What are you talking about?”

”Left him to die, die, die. The farm boy. Dead. In piles. Piles”, he went on, making less and less sense to her.

”Hush, Theon. It was just a nightmare”, she said softly. She remembered her own nightmares. Her dead grandmother had been there, brushing her hair, maggots falling on her shoulders. And the other one, the one she’d still occasionally have, about his father in his hospice bed, begging for her to turn off the ventilator and let him die. She always did.

 

”Come.”

He let her help him up and onto the bed. She leaned her back against the wall and he settled next to her, laying his head on her lap.

”I should have done something”, he was mumbling. ”I knew he was hurting you. I heard it. I should have done something.”

”You were there for me when I needed you”, she reassured him. ”There’s nothing more you could have done.”

”Forgive me father for I have sinned”, he whispered. ”I have sinned.”

 

She cradled him in her lap, stroking his hair idly. She wouldn’t be caught dead singing but she did consider herself a decent hummer, so she started humming a song from his playlist. As she did, the furrow on his brow softened. She studied his face, trying to find traces of the carefree kid he had once been.

 

She thought of the first time she had noticed him. Like actually noticed him, as a boy, not just an idiot friend of her brothers’. It had been the summer between 6th and 7th grade. Having just gotten her first period, she had felt like a grown woman. She had been sunbathing in their backyard in a two-piece swimsuit her mother had quite reluctantly bought her. She had been reading a fashion mag she hadn’t really cared that much about but assumed went well with the attire.

 

A muddy football had made wreck of her pleasant afternoon. The shock had knocked her sunglasses off her nose, and she had spilled soda all over her bikini.

”Jerks!” she had screamed, expecting to see either a grinning Robb or a shameful Jon.

”Oops! Sorry Sansa. Didn’t mean to do that.”

It had been Theon, the sun hitting his face, all golden. He had been smirking at her, not quite yet aware of his charms, but steadily getting there.

She had been absolutely smitten.

 

Her phone vibrated sharply and brought her back to now. She carefully foisted a pillow under Theon’s head. Then she grabbed her phone and a pack of smokes and left for the corridor as quietly as she could.

It was a text from Arya:

_Have you called mom yet???_

She let out a sigh and rested her head against the wall, staring at the ceiling. It didn’t give her any answers.

_I guess now is as good a time as any._

 

The cafeteria downstairs had just opened so she got a cup of coffee before heading outside. She sat down on a bench and lit a cigarette. After the night she had had, she thought she deserved a two-minute respite. She had the number already dialed and her thumb was hovering over the call button. She drew breath as she pressed it. _Seven times,_ that’s how long she’d let it ring before hanging up.

One... Two… three…

_Fuck it._

Had her mother not picked up, she’d have hung up right then.

 

”He-hello?”

Catelyn’s voice was weakened by the distance between them. Sansa felt the knot in her stomach tighten like someone had pulled at the ends.

”Hi mom, it’s me.”

As a habit, her lips curled into a fake smile.

”Sansa? Are you safe? Why didn’t you call me before?”

See, already charging with the big guns.

”I guess I didn’t want to worry you. ”

”How are you?”

 

It was right there, the dreaded question. They had a long history with that one. First a teenage girl, long limbs and a longing, waiting for her mom to just ask it. Later a troubled mother, missed calls and a wish to understand, desperate for answers.

 

”I’m alright, mom.”

The silence was heavy with hurt.

”Where are you?”

”In Edinburgh.”

”With Robb?”

”No, not yet. There’s something I need to take care of first.”

”Are you alone?”  
”No, I’m with a friend. Sort of.”

 

The longer it went on, the harder it was for Sansa to ignore all the pain written between the lines. She wanted to end it, she wanted to tell her to never call again; she wanted to cry and tell her how much she loved her, ask if she loved her too. She lit her third cigarette instead.

 

Her mom was quiet for a while. She had once told Sansa how she used to lay awake at night and just listen to her breathing in her crib, for it had been the most comforting sound in the world. Sansa wandered if she still found some comfort in that, and how it was all she could give her.

”Will you tell me if you’re in trouble?”

She sounded fragile, like she could break any minute. Sansa was sick of it. Sick of trying to hold her together when she was the one who had once wanted to be held.

”I am trouble, mom. You should know it.”

The sad thing was, Sansa knew that the actual trouble she was in was way worse than her mom could have ever imagined.

”No, Sansa. You’re my baby girl.”

 _How dare you make me cry?_ She had to dig her nails onto her palms to steady her breath.

”Gotta go, mom. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

 

She stubbed her cigarette out with brute force. She was angry. Angry at her mom for making her feel so weak and angry at herself for not being able to snuff that feeling out.

 

 _Unwanted. Invisible. Unloved._ That’s what it had felt like, waiting for someone to knock on her door.

 

She couldn’t hold it back, it crushed her like a tidal wave. The wounds wouldn’t close.

It was easier to keep her distance. Never giving a second chance. It was for self-preservation, or punishment, or both. She had not been there when she needed her so she had no right being there now, making her feel like that. Even now, she refused to cry, putting on her armor of steel instead.

 

She gulped down her now cold coffee and went back inside. She felt a little queasy, not being used to smoking that heavy anymore. She decided to have a some breakfast to settle her stomach, maybe even to settle her mood. First she wanted to check in on Theon, though, to make sure he was still breathing.

 

He was lying sideways on the bed now, clutching the blanket in his hands. He had a soft, vulnerable look to him but it seemed like he was at peace now, not being threatened by his own mind. Sansa left a note for him on the flipside of a McDonald’s receipt in case he’d wake up while she was gone.

 

The cafeteria was quiet, most of the other guests probably still in bed. Sansa hid behind a newspaper anyway, not wanting to be disturbed. The only one talking to her was a sweet waitress who asked her how she wanted her eggs. It baffled her to the verge of tears. She didn’t remember when someone had last asked her that. She didn’t remember when she had last read a newspaper either.

 

Sansa snucked a breakfast roll, two boiled eggs and a carton of orange juice upstairs with her. Theon was still sleeping. She plumped herself next to him, wrapped up in a blanket and turned on the tv. After a rigorous channel-surf she stumbled right upon Scarlett O’Hara gorging raw turnips from the ground. She had watched the movie several times with her father who had jokingly told her Scarlett’s antics reminded him of her. She recalled not appreciating his words back then, insisting Scarlett was more like Arya than anyone; stubborn and hot-headed. She still didn’t see much truth in the comparison but decided she could use some guidance from the determined heroine.

 

Two hours later Theon was still snoring, and Sansa was doing yoga on the floor. Finally there was shuffling, grunting and a croggy, thick voice:

”Have you gone wacko?”

”I’m trying to get connected to my chakra”, she told her from a downward-facing dog, grinning at her kneecaps. ”How you doing?”

”Worse than shit”, he groaned, squinting at her.

”What’s worse than shit?”

”I dunno. Two shits?”

Sansa chuckled. She settled on the floor and folded her arms on the edge of the mattress.

”That’s weak.”

”What do you think it is then?” Theon demanded to know, his face still half buried in the pillow, his blue eyes barely open.

”Stepping on a Lego?”

”Being forced to watch an afternoon marathon of Ex on the Beach, ’Clockwork Orange style’?”

”Having to wear mustard corduroy for the rest of your days?”

”Being handcuffed in a room full of puppies?”

”That’s a tough one to beat”, Sansa laughed heartily.

They grinned wildly at each other.

 

”Thanks for taking my mind off of it for even a split second ”, Theon sighed, rolling over to his back.

”That’s really the only trick to it. Finding something else to think of”, Sansa stated and handed him a cartoon of juice before getting up. ”Here, I brought you breakfast. I’m going to take a shower and when I come back, I want to see all of it gone.”

”Thanks”, Theon called out. She turned around. ”Thanks for taking care of me.”

”If you really want to quit, I’m going to be there for you”, she told him with a stern face.

”What a better reason to quit then”, he mumbled to his pillow. Words failed her, for once, and she escaped to the bathroom.


	5. i'd like to tour the 80's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Robb The Rich Bachelor!

* * *

 

 

v. i'd like to tour the 80's

 

 

”You’re not calling him?” Theon queried as they sat on the car, tidied up and ready to appear at yet another doorstep.

”I’d rather not.”

”You are aware that calling a person beforehand might greatly increase the odds of them actually being there?”

”I’m aware”, she nodded, eyes steady on the road ahead. Theon’s phone was calling out driving directions over their conversation.

”I get it”, he said. ”Sometimes it feels safer to gamble.”

 

Half an hour later she parked the car next to a row of Georgian townhouses. It was a quiet street, lined with lime-trees on the verge of opening their first leaves. Sansa chew on her lip anxiously as they neared the door marked with ’19’. Theon seemed even more skittish than before as well, constantly clenching and unclenching his fists.

 

They both jumped at the foredooming ring of the doorbell.

”How do I look?” Sansa asked, nervously touching her neck.

”Like the ghost of Anne Boleyn”, he said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

”Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

”The king dumped Rome for her, didn’t he? She must have been quite something. You are, anyway.”

”Are you flirting with me, Theon Greyjoy?” Sansa pried, raising a brow.

That’s when the door flung open, and he never got a chance to defend himself against the charge.

 

Robb was there, taller and more handsome than she recalled, in a refined gray suit and a pair of furry slippers. He was staring at the two of them, utterly astonished. Sansa felt an unexpected warmth at the sight of him. The big brother she had always admired, the hero in all her stories, her rock.

”Long time no see, brother”, she greeted softly.

”Sansa! Theon!” Robb exclaimed in surprise, welcoming his little sister and a childhood friend with a wide warm smile. ”What on earth are you doing here?”

He was about to give her a hug when his eyes darted to the bruising on her neck.

”What happened? What did that bastard do to you?”

Suddenly there was a cold fire in his eyes.

”I’m going to fucking kill him!” Robb fumed and twitched as if he was about to take his car keys and drive to Ramsay’s door without a beat. Her brother was strong but she was quick, and she managed to usher them inside and shut the door behind her before he made a move. She pressed her back firmly against the door as to prevent him from going on rampage. Theon grabbed his arm, trying to calm him down.

”Killing him is not going to solve any of our problems”, she pointed out. ”We’ll tell you everything if you promise not to go berserk.”

Robb, still furious, looked at both of them and let out a sigh.

”Alright, spill it. No, wait. Let’s sit down first. Coffee, anyone?”

 

Sansa and Theon followed him further into the apartment. It had been newly renovated and evidently decorated by a professional, with muted blues, black aluminum and a classy light gray wooden flooring. It could’ve been straight from the pages of Architectural Digest if it weren’t for the coffee mugs, paperwork, dress shirts, cans of Coke, books and Nike trainers scattered everywhere around the house.

”Sorry for the mess”, Robb said, pushing aside folders to make some room on the sofa. ”You could’ve called, you know.”

”I told her so”, Theon noted as he sat down.

”I thought I’d save you the fuss”, Sansa retorted with a smile as sweet as lemoncakes.

 

”I had no idea you were making this kind of money”, Sansa said a moment later, sipping her fancy coffee.

”Yeah, man, that tv alone is the size of my flat”, Theon added, pointing at the enormous flatscreen across the room.

Robb was blushing.

”Well, I’ve been lucky”, he shrugged. ”Don’t try to change the subject though. What happened with that asshole? What are you doing here, both of you?”

Sansa summarised the recent events, leaving out some of the more gruesome details as Robb’s face grew more sullen by the minute. He kept glancing at the contusion on her neck.

 

”So, we need to lay low for a bit. Somewhere safe and preferably far away from him”, she concluded.

”You hit him with a baseball bat?” Robb confirmed from Theon, sounding like he was talking business. ”He’s alive?”

Theon nodded.

”Has he tried to reach you? Calls? Texts?”

”He can’t contact me, but he’s been calling and texting Theon. I think it’d be easy for him to figure out where we went, though. He knows I don’t have that many places to run away to”, her voice wavered as she manifested the thought she had tried to push aside.

”Can I see those texts?” Robb requested. Theon gave him his phone. As he scrolled through the messages, Sansa studied him. Once or twice his face twisted in disgust or rage, and she tried not to picture all the nasty things she knew Ramsay was capable of spitting out.

 

”He’s furious, that’s for sure”, Robb stated the obvious. ”But he’s kind of vague about it.”

”What is he saying?” Sansa asked, hesitating.

”He’s saying he wants to carve out your eyeballs and feed them to you. Among other things.”

”You call that vague?” Theon quipped.

”Well, since he seems to be busy typing I don’t think he’s actually coming after you. He’d make sure you knew if he was.”

Sansa nodded. She wasn’t convinced enough to feel relieved yet, but it made sense. The Ramsay she knew wouldn’t waste his time on petty threats, he’d let her know he was after her. In the perverted reality of once loving Ramsay, the idea of him not caring enough to get revenge made her heart shrink. After all this time, she wasn’t even worth his hatred. She struggled to run away, and in the end he had just watched her leave.

 

” Are you going to stay here?” Robb inquired.

”If you’ll let us”, Sansa replied.

” You can stay as long as you want”, he assured. ”It’s really good to see you, little one.”

He squeezed her tight, and she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, unfamiliar yet calming.

” Good to see you too, Greyjoy”, he went on to Theon. They shared an awkward man hug, patting and everything. 

 

Afterwards Robb told them he had just gotten home from work when they had appeared on his doorstep. While he was changing out of his stiff suit, Sansa and Theon marveled at his flush bachelor pad.

”He’s a  real catch”, Theon declared. He got up from the sofa and  started going through Robb’s vinyl collection, stacked in haphazard piles on the floor. 

”Indeed. Until he opens his mouth”, Sansa quipped.

” They really love you, don’t they? Your family.” His back was turned on her so she didn’t see his expression. 

” Yeah, they really do”, she sighed.  The love of her family had always been the one right thing in her foul life. And she had done all she could to butcher it.  No matter how hard she had fought, they had never given up.  On many levels, she was still fighting it.

” Can I ask you a favor?” 

”Sure”, Sansa nodded.

”Could you not tell him of my dopehead ways?” he still wasn’t looking at her.

”Of course. I mean, if that’s what you want”, she promised.

”I don’t want him to see me like that. I’m… I’m ashamed.”

She got it, she really did. She knew shame, the way it stained and  soiled everything.  Her hands were drenched in it, and everywhere she touched, she’d see rot and decay. Nothing was sacred. 

” Theon, I--”

 

” You up for some FIFA, Greyjoy?” Robb called out as he returned to the living room, wearing his Durham hoodie.

”Don’t come crying to me, when you lose”, Theon  said,  getting up from the floor. Sansa thought she saw him quickly wiping his cheeks on his sleeve. She offered to leave the guys  alone, but they were having none of it and plopped her between them on the sofa instead. They ordered pizza, Robb and Theon were playing FIFA, and Sansa cheered for both of them equally. It was just like the old times, and the silly smile on Sansa’s lips didn’t falter all night. 

 

” Is it twin or double?” Robb asked, yawning, after they had finally decided to call it a night. Sansa gave him a baffled look.

”What?”

”You  guys sleep together or not?” he questioned,  a severe look on his face. Sansa blushed and made sure to not look at Theon. 

”Not!” she snapped.

”Good”, Robb said, seemingly satisfied. He cast a weird glance at his once best friend before further discussing the sleeping arrangements. He set up at mattress for her on the floor of his home office, and Theon would sleep on the couch.

 

As she was about to dive under a luxurious eiderdown, she got a text from Jeyne.

_Hi girl, what’s up? I hope you’re doing ok. :) Text me when you can._

She felt a pang of guilt as she realized she hadn’t given Jeyne a second thought after sending her that cryptic text from Arya’s. She must have been really worried, not knowing what had happened to her.

 

To her defence, when living like she had, it was hard to make real human connection with anyone. It was hard to see anyone caring for you when you yourself cared so little. In any way, there was no denying it: she had used the poor girl’s sweet nature to her advantage. She felt repulsive.

She might have been that kind of person now, but she would not be that kind of person in the future.

 

 

Sansa could get used to having breakfast with her family.  This time there weres no pancakes though, only dry toast and Nutella from the jar. 

” What have you been  doing , Theon? You’ve been sort of MIA”, Robb asked, spreading a thick layer of Nutella on his second toast. Sansa glanced at Theon. He looked like a dying man’s prayer, a heavy brow and deep shadows under his eyes. She wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all. 

” What have I been doing? Well, this and that.”

Sansa couldn’t help but snort at his  disguised  honesty. This and that indeed, starting with amphetamine and ending with Xanax.  


” I know you  joined the army.  I heard you were with the troops in Afghanistan, is that true?” 

S he looked at him in suprise. It wasn’t like they had ever had heart to hearts before this joint venture, but he had never even hinted at something like that. She tried to imagine him in a uniform. She saw a sad man,  head hang low, dragging his feet. 

”Yeah”, Theon said, staring into the dept h s of his c afé au lait.  ” Got back almost two years ago.”

” Must have been rough”, Robb said with  sad admiration. 

”Yeah. I thought I could take it. Turned out I couldn’t.”

”Did something happen?” he didn’t seem to notice Theon’s sudden unease.

”Yeah”, Theon went silent. Robb studied his face  carefully before squeezing his arm. Theon looked at him and  gave him a faint smile that did not reach his eyes. 

” If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know, alright?”

”Playing FIFA with me helped quite a bit”, Theon said, his smile brightening up a little.

 

” I gotta leave for work”, Robb said, glancing at his watch ( _ Since when does he wear a watch? _ ) wolfing down the last of his toast. ”So you have to teach my sister how to play.” There were crumbles all over his crisply shaven beard, but Sansa found it too adorable to say anything. 

”Let’s go see the city instead”, Sansa chipped in. ”I don’t want to spend  whole day holed up  in  here.”

” I’ll leave you the spare keys so you two scoundrels can do what you wish. I’ll be home around 7 pm. There better be dinner then”, Robb announced with a glint in his eye. 

 

H ours later they had toured the city thoroughly,  Sansa dragging them from one sightseeing to the next.  She tried her best to keep his mind off his cravings. And he tried his best to make her laugh, succeeding each and every time.

 

They were both exhausted as they plodded back towards Robb’s. There was only so much brownstore one could take in one day.

Theon made a stop in front of a real estate agency and started going through the ads on window display.

”You thinking of buying?” Sansa said mockingly.  The prices seemed ridicilous to her. 

”One can dream”, Theon muttered.

”That’s your dream? A house with a lawn?”

”I don’t know. I guess that’s w h ere I have to start. Figuring out what I want”, he shrugged. They sat down on a bench across the agency, resting their feet. 

”Do you know what you want?” he asked her. Sansa fiddled with her sleeve, feeling troubled all of a sudden. She had had a plan. She’d leave Ramsay, and left she had. Now she needed to make another plan. She didn’t want to think of it yet. The end of the old. The beginning of the new. She wasn’t ready to stop running. She wasn’t ready to stop. That’s when she would have to start making choices again. Her track record of choices was not brilliant. 

And to be honest, the idea of being alright frightened her.

 

” I know I don’t want to be a disappointment anymore”, she said finally.  Theon took h er hand, and she let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the whole "going around town sightseeing" shabang for another work once and all the googling (you know, to get it "right") and description was so tedious I didn't want to do it again.


	6. these thoughts are those thoughts that cover me in grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”It’s so powerful, the sea. Formidable. It reminds me it’s useless to fight. You can only float and wish for the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always feel nervous for posting something I really like, as I really like the way this chapter turned out. Hope you like it too! I'm sorry for the slow schedule, these past few weeks I haven't had that much time to write. Can't write too late at night because then my brain keeps churning out words when I try to get sleep. :'D Shouldn't the whole point of being an adult be not having bedtimes?
> 
> Thank you everyone again for reading, giving kudos and leaving comments, they warm my cold bitch heart every time! <3

* * *

 

vi. these thoughts are those thoughts that cover me in grey 

 

The new morning dawned on them cloudy and brisk, with a promise of rain. Sansa was inclined to stay inside and watch movies, but Theon wanted to go to the sea. Why anyone would go to the beach on a day like that was beyond her, but he insisted he liked the sea when it rained. She decided she didn’t have to understand.

 

They drove to the seaside and found a deserted beach on the outskirts of the city. Wearing windbreakers borrowed from Robb, they braved the weather that was already taking a turn for the worse. His stride was steady and purposeful, and she had to pick up the pace to not fall behind. The tide was at its lowest, and the shore was left rocky and bare. They sank deep into the wet sand on every step, and crushed seashells made cracking sounds under their feet. The shore was scattered with plastic cups, fishing nets and lonely flip flops, like offerings rejected by the sea.

 

He walked them over to the lone breakwater reaching across the horizon. The sea was bleak and restless. The smell of salt and seaweed, an earthy smell reminding her of death more than life, filled her lungs. Theon had closed his eyes, facing the sky. She was wrapped inside her windbreaker the best she could, shielding herself from the same breeze Theon seemed to welcome on his face.

 

”Remind me again, why did you want to come here?” Sansa asked, raising her voice against the wind. Theon laughed at her, her nose barely peeking over the collar.

”It’s the only place I’ve ever found peace”, he told her as he helped her sit down on the concrete.

”Peace? Here?” she raised her brow.

”It’s so powerful, the sea. Formidable. It reminds me it’s useless to fight. You can only float and wish for the best.”

He turned back to the sea. It was raining somewhere in the distance; the clouds looked like monstrous brides, dark and sinister, long trails dragging behind them.

”You should try it”, he said, closing his eyes once again. ”Let go of the fight. Surrender.”

 

She imitated him, closing her eyes and raising her chin. The waves crashing in distance, the wind in her ears, the seagulls screaming; it was so loud suddenly, as if someone had turned up the volume.

”Don’t fight it.”

 

And do what? Feel it?

The cold biting her cheeks red.

The salt on her lips.

The wind leading her runaway hair to a dance.

 

If there were tears, she blamed it on the breeze.

She wondered if this was the closest she could get to knowing Theon Greyjoy’s soul.

 

Moments passed, as they sat on the cold, damp concrete in silence. The soothing hum of the sea in her ears, Sansa found it surprisingly easy to quiet her mind. Her breathing adjusted to the steady rhythm of the waves. Maybe she should just stay here and wait for her life to sort itself out. Just as the thought entered her mind, Theon shifted next to her.

”Your fingers”, he said, touching her hand as if she didn’t know where to look for said body part.

”Oh”, she quickly pulled her hand away and looked down at her fingers that had turned white as parsnips. ”It happens sometimes when I’m cold.”

Theon stopped her from tucking her hands in her pockets.

”C’mon, let me help you”, he snorted. He gently took her hands and closed them between his own as in a nest.

”Aren’t you such a gentleman”, she quipped, more to distract herself from her confusion than anything.

”You mistaking me for a gentleman is a symptom of you living with Ramsay Bolton too long”, he retorted, rolling his eyes.

 

The unexpected warmth in his touch made something catch fire inside her. She felt her blood rush in her veins, bringing up the heat.

”Is this how you kept each other warm in the army?” she asked him, trying to stay cool.

”You wouldn’t believe if I told you”, he said with a laugh and let her hands go. The sensation of his skin now gone, she felt the same kind of loss one feels right after the sun has bowed down below the horizon.

 

Soon after she felt the first raindrops on her face.

”Shit”, she didn’t have time to say anything else before the shower hit hard and heavy. The wind quickly picked up, as if not wanting to be late for the party. By the time they got up, they were already soaked. Any attempt to escape the rain was futile, but they made a run for it anyway.

 

”I thought you liked the sea when it rains”, Sansa teased Theon as she slammed the car door shut behind her. His messy curls were dripping wet as was his face, and his cheeks were red from the cold.

”Yeah well, one must be careful with what they wish for”, he laughed. There was nothing but the relentless, all-powerful roaring of the rain. It felt as if it was going to wash away the world as they knew it, and Sansa wondered if she’d even miss it.

 

They listened to the sound of rain, huddled in the back seat. It was humid inside the car, and the warmth of their bodies quickly made the windows cloud with steam.

”I’ve been meaning to ask you this”, Sansa broke the silence, glancing sideways at Theon. ”How did you end up with Ramsay’s lot?”

Theon didn’t say anything for a while, and she started to doubt if he ever would. He didn’t look at her when he finally spoke.

”After I came back from Afghanistan, I felt… I didn’t feel anything. I was all numb, sleepwalking. When I opened my eyes in the morning, I didn’t know if I was alive or dead. I felt so alone, yet I didn’t know how to be around people anymore. I wanted to feel something. No, I wanted to feel pain. It was the only thing that made any sense. I thought of hurting myself many times. In the end, I was too scared to do it. Once a coward, always a coward.”

He was picking at his nailbeds yet again.

”No, Theon. You’re not a coward. A coward wouldn’t have done what you did for me.”

He gave her a faint smile, unconvinced.

”I owed you as much. You saved me first.”

 

”I knew Ramsay from school. Or knew of him, anyway. I met him at a club, where I was trying to drown my misery with a drink. He set me up with some extacy and promised it’d make it better. And it did, for a while. It was beautiful. Magical. It made me feel alive, so alive. Afterwards, I felt even emptier than before. It kept haunting me, and I craved for more. Speed would hit even bigger, take me even higher, Ramsay told me”, he let out a sigh.

 

”Soon I needed it to feel any resemblance to normal. To be around people at all. The money I made from doing odd jobs didn’t get me very far, so I started doing odd jobs for Ramsay to get my fix. I had nothing, so I had nothing to lose. My father already considered me a waste of space, so why not be wasted”, he sounded sad and spiteful. The skin around his thumb was raw and bleeding now, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

 

Sansa remembered Theon’s father, a stern and rigid figure. She had been scared of him, and now that she thought of it, so had been Theon. He was a Gulf War veteran himself and seemed to never have made peace with the ghosts of his own. His mouth was always a straight line, as if he was determined nothing would make him smile again. His stare was cold and blank, even when he was looking at Theon. He was so unlike Sansa’s father, who had been all love and laughs before falling ill. Ned had always been kind to Theon. He had driven him and Robb to football practice three times a week and went to see the matches even after Robb had quit the team. Sansa hadn’t thought much about it then, but now she wondered if Theon’s father had ever been there.

She felt bad for him, having to live off their scraps.

 

”I didn’t know how to make him love me, so I tried at least to make him proud. It was never enough. I failed”, his voice was worn thin as if it’d break any second. He buried his face behind his folded knees.

”You know, all I’ve really wanted is to belong. To have people to call ’mine’. But they don’t want me. Can’t blame them. Can’t see why they would.”

It wrenched her heart to hear him speak like that, to see him so in pain.

”What about your sister?” she asked.

”I failed her too. Yara was patient with me, she really tried to understand. Every time I messed up she was there to give me another chance. Until... She has a kid, you know? A baby boy. She asked me to be his godfather. I went to the christening but I was… I was high, of course. She told me she didn’t want me anywhere near her kid ever again.”

 

She thought of all the bridges she had tried to burn. How they were all still there, steady and strong, waiting for her to cross. She didn’t know what to tell him to make him feel any better. Who was she to tell him it’d be alright, that his sister would forgive him? Maybe she wouldn’t, as was her right. They had made grave mistakes, both of them, and there was no other way than to learn to live with their sins.

”Shit”, he groaned, shaking his head. ”I’m sorry to burden you with this.”

”No”, she was quick to reply. ”I’m happy you told me.”

What she could do was to be there for him, sins and all.

 

The rain had died away, but neither of them was in a hurry to leave the small world they had made just for themselves. Theon stared somewhere in the distance, lost in his thoughts. Sansa kept looking back at him. She wondered what terrors he saw when he closed his eyes at night.

 

”I could see myself starting anew here, you know”, he said after a while, startling her. She hadn’t thought about it yet and she was surprised that he had. Then again, wanting to find a place to call _home_ went well with what he had just told her. She felt a mean twinge in the pit of her stomach as she realized there was nothing really binding her to Theon, and his path was his own. Panic washed over her like a cold wave.

 

_Don’t leave me alone._

She tried to push the thought away, as it made no sense, but it kept crawling back, an undead creature from her nightmares.

 

Her feet left the earth and she felt hands on her throat.

 

She was helpless.

_Just helpless._

 

”How about you?”

It was his voice again, warm and familiar, guiding her back.

”I-I don’t know”, she said weakly. ”I’m inadequate at making decisions.”

It had been one of the perks of living with Ramsay, most of her decisions being made for her.

”Well, leaving Ramsay was a good start, right?” he gave her a cheerful smile. ”Let’s see. Edinburgh. Pros and cons?”

She only nodded.

”Cons first.”

His newly found, dead serious enthusiasm confused her. She wondered if it was a symptom of amphetamine withdrawal or if he was born with it.

”I don’t understand half of what they’re saying”, Sansa proposed.

”Your ear will get used to it”, he countered. ”What else?”

”The weather”, she said, rolling her eyes.

”It’s the same everywhere”, he shrugged.

”Any other cons? No? Let’s get to the pros then.”

”It’s a beautiful city. It’s far enough from London and Ramsay”, she begun tentatively, as he prodded her to go on.

”It’s close to Robb”, she said. She was still in doubt if this was the recommended way to make a decision of such magnitude, but it wasn’t like she had any better ideas.

”And?” Theon raised his brow, clearly waiting for something.

”And--” she repeated, trying to think of what she was missing.

”Me. It would be close to me too.”

He had a goofy grin on his face, the kind that made her want to cry.

 

 


	7. i got sideswiped and came right to '78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a mini-update! I'll try to get the next chapter up during the weekend, probs on Sunday. This one didn't really go with the previous chapter nor does it go with the next one, but despite being so short it felt important. Originally my plan was to write solely about Theon and Sansas relationship but the more I'm writing the more important her other relationships start to feel - especially the ones with her family. This is about healing, and mending those relationships is an important part of that. Also, I don't want to promote the usual "love is all-powerful" storyline since I think it actually quite often turns toxic.

* * *

 

 

vii. i got sideswiped and came right to '78

 

The living room floor was basking in silvery moonlight as Sansa tiptoed across it to Robb’s door. Theon was lying on the sofa with his headphones on, arms folded behind his head as

a pillow. He looked up and gave her an encouraging smile as she knocked on the door.

”It’s me”, she announced, and Robb called her in. He had been doing push-ups by his bed and stood up, face flushed from the exercise.

”What a weird bed time routine”, she noted, raising her brow. Robb rubbed his neck looking a little embarrassed. ”Put a shirt on, dude.”

”Is something wrong?” he asked sounding concerned. ”Did Ramsay reach out to you?”

”No”, Sansa said and shook her head for effect. ”I just wanted to talk to you.”

 

She sat on the end of his bed, tucking her knees to her chest. She was wearing Arya’s pyjamas again. Robb sat down next to her and crossed his legs. It was almost like when they were children, her crawling into his bed after having a nightmare. He would always make a scene of it, huffing and puffing, but eventually rolling over and making space for her.

”I’m here.”

”I know. You always have been”, she said, her voice already breaking. _Damn it._ Where was all this fucking crying coming from?

”And I always will be. Nothing can change that, not even you”, he affirmed with a soft grin.

 

He looked exactly like their father. The same sturdy jawline. The same unruly beard, quickly growing shaggy if not shaved almost religiously. The same wide forehead, making space for bushy ginger brows. And the same eyes, clear and blue as a cold winter’s day, suddendly warming up with a smile.

 

Robb had an easy, likeable manner about him that she had always admired. She had been a sweet child herself, of course, but she had a temper and a mighty pout, sharp edges. Robb was soft and round by nature. He rarely got mad, and never at Sansa. What he had was not so much _charm_ as it was an aura of kindness, evident to everyone around him.

 

”I owe you so much”, she sobbed, ”I don’t think I can ever pay you back.”

As long as she could remember, Robb had been there to help her. He had tied her shoelaces, pushed her in a swing and trapped wayward spiders in jars. He had helped her with math homework, lied to their parents for her and driven her home after she got drunk for the first time and couldn’t walk straight. Earlier today he had called her landlord to terminate the lease. When she had told him she might want to stay in Edinburgh he had immediately texted his friends asking if they knew a flat she could rent. In return she had done nothing but caused him endless misery.

 

She wasn’t even speaking all figuratively. When she had first left Ramsay, it was Robb who had lended her the deposit for her new flat. He had paid her rent for the first few months before she got a job. Whenever she couldn’t get the ends meet, he helped her out. He always shrugged it off, saying it was not that much money, but somehow it only made her feel worse – if it wasn’t even that much money, how could she not make it?

 

She was full on weeping now. She felt stupid, as she knew wallowing in self-pity made no difference, but she couldn’t help it.

”You don’t owe me anything. That’s not how it works”, he said, hugging her tight.

That was exactly how it had worked with Ramsay. Cause and effect. Act and counteract. Mishap and punishment. It made sense, it had a logic to it. She always got what was coming for her.

 

”I remember mom telling me and Jon we were going to have a little sister. I wasn’t too happy about it. I didn’t understand where they were going to put you. I was already sharing a room with Jon and I was afraid I’d have to share it with you too. But when I saw you for the first time at the hospital… You were so small and pink and _new._ A whole new person. You were a wonder to me. That’s how I see you, to this day and beyond.”

Robb’s voice was soft and his breath tickled her ear. She hugged him back, clinging to his t-shirt.

 

”I’ll try, at least, to pay you back”, she said finally, after calming down enough for her brain to form words. ”I’ll get a job and pay you back, even if it takes the rest of my life.”

He nodded, leaving Sansa her dignity.

 

”I’m sorry for letting you down. I mean, by going back to him after all you did to help me out of there”, she went on, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Of all the people she had failed, Robb’s forgiveness was the one she wanted the most. If he was by her side, she could hold her head high.

”You didn’t let me down”, he said hastily. ”I have to admit, I did not get it. I just wanted to see you happy.”

”The thing is, I never wanted to be happy”, she smiled at her brother with sorrowful eyes. It was plain on his face that he didn’t understand.

”But I think I might be ready to give it a chance.”

 

By the time she had wished Robb good night and left his room, Theon had fallen asleep. He still had his headphones on, and when she got closer she heard the muffled chorus of ’Come Together’ by The Beatles. She turned off the music and took off his headphones, careful not to wake him up.

 

She thought of what he had told her about his sister earlier that day. Yara, next of his kin, the one he felt he had betrayed. The broken cord, ends hanging loose. Could they ever be tied? She sure hoped so, for Theon’s sake. She looked at him, face pale and glowing in the night like the bright side of the moon. Did he feel like he was all alone in the world? Sansa had a sudden urge to wake him up and swear to him it was not so. Instead she covered him with a blanket and went to bed.

 


	8. well if the mood's right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle your seat belts, a time jump ahead!

* * *

 

viii. well if the mood's right

 

Day by day the heaviness of her heart eased off a little. She got somewhat adjusted to her new life, green and budding. With Robb’s help she got a job cleaning his company’s offices; _”Just till you find something with more promise.”_ It pained her to know he still expected so much of her, like she was a diamond in the rough, just biding her time to shine.

 

She found a room in a shared flat not far from Robb’s and moved in. This time there was no furniture to bring in, but Robb, Theon and Jon were there anyway, helping her paint the walls from eggshell to ivory. They went to IKEA with her and spent hours assembling the stuff. Jon gifted her the first book for her new bookcase, _The Tale of Peter Rabbit_ , which she had adored as a child.

 

Her new roommate Margaery and her many sweet friends were warm and welcoming towards her. Margaery always asked her to join them, whether it was for shopping, a cup of coffee or a girls’ night out. She was a clever girl with a good heart, and seemed she was not oblivious to the pain Sansa carried with her.

 

They thought she was having some kind of a gap year, and she was too embarrased to tell them she had actually had seven. They were all either studying at the university or taking their first steps on some trendy career track, and she had barely gotten her A-levels. They were casually dropping names she had never heard of, and she rarely had any opinions on the matters they were discussing. She watched them and tried to learn the effortless way they navigated the world around them.

 

It was hard to let anyone close. It was hard to be a friend, for she hadn’t really had one, or been one for years. She didn’t know how to tell them about her ’bad ex’, or her dad, or her mom, even. She couldn’t spill her dirty secrets over a glass of boxed wine, for they were not the kind to make you blush and giggle. She was still trying to find the right words for her story. Meanwhile she mostly stayed silent.

 

When alone, and sometimes with other people too, she felt hollow. For better or worse, her life with Ramsay had been what shaped her through her adult years, all she had had. Every time someone talked to her, asked her a question, she had to scrape up the ashes, what was left of her, and try to act like she was whole.

 

Theon too was piecing together his second chance. He stayed at Robb’s, looking for a job. They were talking or texting each other almost every day, neither of them willing to break the unheralded bond between them. It was him whom she called at nights, if Margaery was at her boyfriend’s, and the loneliness took over her in the darkness. And it was her whom he called first after landing a job.

 

”Guess what?”

”What?” she was slouching on her bed, painting her toe nails. She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder.

”You’re not gonna guess?” he sounded disappointed.

Sansa let out a long sigh.

”You finally came to your wits and realized Sean Connery _is_ the best Bond?”

”What? No! Roger Moore’s take on the character is-- Fuck it. Nevermind. That’s not why I’m calling you.”

Sansa rolled her eyes.

”Well, I figured.”

”I got a job!”

”That’s awesome!” Sansa shrieked. She jolted up, accidentally painting her big toe red with the nail polish wand still in her hand.

”Sansa, are you still there?”

”Yeah, I just did a dance of victory for you”, she told him, a little out of breath.

”I wish I could have seen it”, he sighed. Somehow she heard him grin. ”Aren’t you curious to know who was dumb enough to hire me?”

”Yeah. Someone must have been really scraping the bottom of the barrel”, she mocked him with the utmost amiability.

”Remember that realty agency we passed on our first day at Robb’s?”

”Heavens above! Theon Greyjoy, a realtor.”

”C’mon, admit it. You’d _die_ to see me in a red blazer.”

Sansa chuckled. Every day she grew more aware of how light she felt talking with Theon. It was as if someone had taken all the weight off her shoulders, and she was soaring towards the sun.

 

He had told her he wasn’t actually going to work as a realtor but as an assistant who’d take care of cleaning and organizing the realties on sale. He’d be the one to paint walls, change curtains, dust off pillows and place fresh flowes on coffee tables before showings. The pay was alright, the hours were easy and they had told him they could later take him in as an agent trainee if he was interested. It wasn’t the kind of job Sansa had imagined for Theon but she was happy for him anyway.

 

Two weeks after she had moved in with Margaery, there was a knock on her door. Sansa put aside the book she had been reading, _Orlando_ by Virginia Woolf. Margaery had mentioned it as one of her favourites, and she had decided to start building up her learning.

”There’s a guy who wants to see you”, Margaery announced, leaning against the doorframe.

Sansa startled, her heart hammering at her throat. She got up, not feeling the floor under her feet, like she wasn’t even there at all.

”What guy?” she asked, cautious.

”Kinda tall, messy hair, fuck-me eyes. That guy”, Margaery said and crossed her arms. ”Where have you been hiding him?”

Sansa felt her whole body tingle as her senses came back to her. No one would ever describe Ramsay like that. She hadn’t realized she was still so afraid of him coming after her, not before picturing him on their doorstep just now.

”Thanks. Send him in”, she sighed. Margaery nodded, winking at her as she went.

 

”You could have called”, Sansa complained as Theon entered her room.

”Thought I’d save you the fuss”, he grinned and sat down on the bed, as there really was nowhere else to sit. He did look considerably less like a junkie now that he had gotten color back to his face and meat around his bones, some muscle even. And those fuck-me eyes were looking straight at her. Sansa suddenly felt nervous about sitting next to him, so she opted to stand in the middle of the room, pacing from one foot to another. She noticed the pink paper bag he had with him.

”What’s that?”

”Got my first paycheck so I got you a present”, he said, handing the bag over. Inside, wrapped in pink silk paper, she found a beautiful set of lacy underwear. Her whole face instantly turned into the same rosy color as the garments.

”What should I make of this?” she asked, trying to keep her cool.

”Of what?”

”Of you bying me nice underwear?”

”I thought it was time.”

 

He was so smug, annoyingly so, but Sansa couldn’t help the witless smile on her face. She sat down next to him, still keeping a safe distance.

”I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy the granny pants, though”, he added, almost whispering as he moved closer to her. He took her hand, running his thumb over her wrist. She shivered. He leaned over and brought her hand to his lips. He kissed her on the wrist, right next to where her pulse was trembling like a caged hummingbird. His kisses were soft as petals, and her skin would come to life everywhere his lips touched.

 

He layed her hand gently on her lap and looked up at her. She looked at him, all of him. The golden boy with the muddy football on the white scar on the bridge of his nose. The drug addict on the deep dark trenches under his eyes. All in between, that she didn’t know of.

A son.

A friend.

A soldier.

Theon.

_Just Theon._

 

All she could hear was them breathing. No cars outside, no eternal British rain on the window sill. No Margaery watching romcoms. An entire galaxy for just the two of them, feeling utterly and painfully alive.

 

”I really want to kiss you”, it was Theon who broke the silence. ”Wanted for a long time. But I guess I have stage fright. Don’t want to mess it up.”

He looked so sheepish all she could do was laugh.

”You can try again if you fail the first time”, she teased him. As much as she tried to be cool, she blushed as he leaned towards her. He touched her face with such tenderness it was almost unbearable to someone like her, used to rough hands and harsh words. He tucked her auburn hair behind her ear, and she relaxed her head against his palm, closing her eyes.

 

The kiss was soft and heedful at first, like they had just been washed ashore on a foreign land. As they explored each other, it got more confident and intent. She tasted the sea on his lips. It was the Atlantic, tumultuous and neverending. How easy it would be to get lost at sea?

 

She rested her forehead against his, savoring the taste of him. His hand was behind her neck now, playing with her hair. He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb before kissing her again. This time there was more of everything – purpose, want and need. She slid her hands along his jawline to the back of his head, pushing her body towards him as his arms closed around her waist, pulling her up onto his lap. Suddenly she was holding back tears. Despair and desire – the two had always been inseparable to her.

 

She reached for the skin under his shirt. It felt scolding hot to her touch, but she didn’t mind getting her fingers burned.

”Do you want this?” his voice was raspy, his breath tickled her ear.

 _A dumb question._ She had never wanted anything this much after wanting a pony at the age of five.

”Yeah”, she pulled off his shirt, laughing at him when he all but got stuck in it.

”Such a stud I am”, he groaned. He planted kisses on her chin and behind her ear, going towards her neck.

 

The bruises had faded but the memory of Ramsay was still vivid in her mind. She opened her eyes to unsee his face. Theon’s touch was soft of course, his fingers trailing her collar bones and down along her arm until they reached her hand. She shuddered to get rid of the unwanted memory, reappearing out of nowhere like a persistent blowfly. She caught his lips into another kiss, wanting to drown it all.

 

Theon laid her slowly down onto the bed, unwilling to break the kiss. He tucked on the hem of her shirt, exploring the smooth skin of her stomach. A distant image was haunting her, like something she caught a glimpse of on the edge of her vision. A swirl of dark hair. Rushed breathing. A man’s weight over her, much stronger than she was. The smell. The smell of cologne, musky and overpowering. Smothering. A part of her knew it was only a memory – for Theon smelt of clean sheets and smokes – and yet another part of her yanked her arm and pushed him off her.

”No!” she heard herself cry faintly. Theon immediately backed off, but it was like she didn’t even see him. Her heart was pounding and she was petrified, like a prey facing the predator.

”Hey, it’s alright”, his voice was steady and calm. ”It’s alright. You’re here and you’re safe, okay?”

”I-I’m sorry”, she whispered as she forced herself to breathe out.

”There’s nothing to be sorry for”, he told her, taking her hand. ”It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

 _But I want to_.

 

They lay there, side by side, in the dim streetlight pouring through the window. He stroke her hair and kissed her shoulder. His fingers drew slow circles over her stomach, like he wanted to write a completely new story for her body. She felt the tension release, being slowly replaced with another feeling. She rose onto her elbows to kiss him. This time it was her pushing him onto the bed. She erased the surprised look from his face by taking off her top and bra. She was no blushing maid. She felt him against her, hard and throbbing, and it made her blood boil.

 

It was relentless and unhinged, a storm at the sea. He bit her on the shoulder when she asked him to, as if she couldn’t take her pleasure without pain. He struggled to keep her flaming hair from falling over her face, for he wanted to look at her as she fucked him.

 

She looked at the blue, frightening depths of him, where the sea monsters lived. She wasn’t afraid.

 

Deeper and deeper she went,

happily underwater.

 

Afterwards he pulled the blanket over their sweaty, entangled bodies and rested his head on her chest.

”What are you doing?”

”Cuddling”, he replied, amused by her alarmed tone.

”Right”, she mumbled and kissed the top of his head. _(Ramsay had always taken a shower the first thing, as if she had tainted him and he couldn’t get clean fast enough – but she didn’t want to think of it now.)_

”I thought I’d marry you, did you know that?” he asked after a while. He had closed his eyes and had a dreamy look on his face. His skin was glowing in the pastel-colored light of the late spring night. ”When I was a kid, I mean.”

”Didn’t take you for the marrying kind”, Sansa quipped, stone-faced. She wondered if he could hear her heart quiver. It was the heart of a little girl, of course, of the one who had dreamed of kissing Theon Greyjoy.

”I was ten!” he defended himself. ”I didn’t really know what else to do with a girl I fancied. You go from hating girls to wanting to marry them to wanting to--”

”I get the picture”, Sansa cringed.

”Think of it”, he went on, not minding her. ”If things had been different, you could have ended up a football wife.”

”You flatter yourself, Greyjoy”, she snorted. He wiped the smirk off her face with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats on the sex! I'm sorry for the cheesy bit with the underwear, I just could not after the thought had crossed my mind. It's a callback to their conversation in chapter 3, in case you missed it.


	9. make time to rewind those memories and play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not fully content with this chapter. I don't know why but I just couldn't get it quite like I wanted and I struggled with the language more than before. But I need to learn to be less critical of myself and just let things go and enjoy the writing even if it's not "perfect". There's still a lot more left for the story so I can't get stuck here!  
> Thank you so much again for commenting and reading! I'm so happy you're enjoying the story. There are some bumps on the road ahead, so hold on tight and we can make it through!

* * *

  


ix. make time to rewind those memories and play  


  


  


Sansa didn’t hear from Theon for two days. When she called him, he sounded strange and distant. She heard his voice loud and clear, but somehow the words were muffled and distorted. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, as Jon dropped a bomb on her.

  


She was walking home from work in the gentle, gold-flecked light of the afternoon. She had decided to take the long route back; the pretty route. It passed an old townhouse with a garden lined with big magnolia trees. Their branches were hanging over the wrought iron railing, heavy with fragnant flowers. From afar they looked like the white hands of a porcelain doll, held in prayer.

  


When Jon called her, she had her nose pointed up towards the sky, taking in the scent of spring.

”What’s up?”

Last week he had called her for advice on how to approach a co-worker he wanted to ask out. She expected to hear the news on that.

  


Her and Jon had never really gotten as close as she was with Robb. On paper, Jon was a foster kid, adopted by Ned and Catelyn before she was born. Of course, they were the only family he had ever known, and he was as much a Stark as any of them. Jon was shy and withdrawn, much unlike Robb. For some reason, her and him had always had a hard time finding a common tune. He had been constantly bumping into the sharp edges of Sansa’s character. There had even been a time when Sansa had told him he didn’t have the right to tell her what to do for he was not _really_ her big brother at all. (To be fair, she hadn’t liked Robb back then either, since the older siblings kept pushing her off and didn’t want to play with her.)

  


But it was all in the past now, and she was happy to hear his voice. Despite their differences, Jon had been there for her over the years. Not in the same way as Robb or Arya, but in a way of his own. He didn’t ask questions or try to understand how she felt, but he would drive a car, carry furniture and install light fixtures, whenever needed. He also gave out the firmest, warmest hugs she had ever known.

  


”Thought you should know… I’m in a car, on my way there.”

What followed could only be described as a pregnant pause, full term and with twins.

”Mom’s with me.”

Sansa steadied herself onto the railing.

”What?” she screamed to the phone.

”I’m sorry, San”, his voice was mellow. ”I wanted to call you earlier but she wouldn’t let me.”

”Right. I’m sure you had nothing on her as she held you seven feet from your phone, a local boxing champion.”

”C’mon, you know how she gets.”

”How much time have I got?”

”We’ll be there in around two hours.”

”I guess it’s better to get to cleaning up then.”

  


When Margaery came home she found Sansa frantically cleaning the flat as if she was going through a manic episode. It was like her brain was switched on to autopilot, going through the motions but lacking any purpose. She could not focus. She picked up a few pieces of clothing she had a bad habit of deserting around her room, tried to make her bed at the same time, then darted into the kitchen to wash a plate or two, not really finishing anything she started.

”What’s wrong?” Margaery watched her with a furrow on her forehead. Sansa stopped on her steps, staring at her, eyes wild.

”My mom’s coming over”, she howled, bursting into tears despite herself.

  


She didn’t understand why she was so worked up about it. It didn’t matter what her mom thought, did it? (Oh, but it did. It _did_.) She wanted to set up a stage of normalcy, to hide any weakness, any crack on her shield. Any sign of how much she really needed her.

  


Margaery threw her arms around her roommate.

”Hey, it’s alright”, she said, her voice calm like a summer morning. ”Let me tidy up the kitchen, you just take care of your room, okay?”

Sansa had long ago added her to the list of the people she needed to pay back to, and her debts kept growing.

  


After she had finished the dishes, hidden all the empty bottles of wine and swept breadcrumbs off the table, Margaery left for the grocery shop a few blocks away. She came back with a bag of croissants and a bouquet of fresh flowers.

  


Sansa paced around, dreading for the doorbell to ring. When it did, she found her legs didn’t move. Margaery went to the door in her stead, greeting the Starks behind it with a warm, bright smile that lit up the dim corridor.

”You must be Catelyn!” Sansa heard her honeysuckle voice say. ”Come in, Sansa’s busy in the kitchen.”

  


She decided that if there ever would be a time when Margaery needed her, she would be there; she’d be there running.

  


She took a deep breath and went to greet her mom.

  


It had been scarcely over a year, but Catelyn looked smaller than she remembered, and older. There was more silver than mahogany in her hair now, and her skin was wrinkled neatly and thoroughly. She looked at her with a tender smile but her eyes were rippling with sorrow. Despite Margaery’s invitation she was still standing in the corridor, not daring to enter without a word from her daughter. Sansa gave in to the urge to run and hug her, like she had done a thousand times before.

  


She smelt of soap and laundry, of fresh peonies and brittle paper, of birthday cakes and bonfires by midsummer, of tears wiped away and kisses blown to the wind.

  


”Mom”, she whispered into her coarse curls, still a shade darker than her own. She stifled the maelstrom of emotions about to make rise in her chest.

”Come in.”

Catelyn followed her inside, her steps still cautious, knowing full well she was on foreign territory. Only then did Sansa take notice of Jon, who had been lurking behind their mom as if he was scared Sansa would shoot the messenger. He had been holding a cardboard box which he now bestowed on her as he hugged her.

”I’m going to Robb’s, see ya later, sis”, he started off with an awkward wave of his hand. It was as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough now that he had successfully carried out his mission.

  


Her mom was here now, in their kitchen, and Sansa didn’t know what to do. Margaery made them sit down and poured them tea. She tactfully concealed her surprise as she learned Sansa and Catelyn were all but alien to each other. If it wasn’t for the polite conversation she made, they would have heard the sound of eggshells crushing under their feet.

  


When Margaery got up to leave, Sansa wanted to grab her arm and force her to stay.

”It was lovely meeting you”, she told Catelyn with an earnest smile before bidding them farewell.

”Such a sweet girl.”

”She’s one of a kind”, Sansa said, staring at her tea cup, as if waiting for the soaked tea leaves to tell her what to do. She was nervous. The last time she had been alone with her mom was almost two years ago at a café. This time it was much more intimate.

”Do you want to see my room?” she offered.

”I’d love to.”

  


There was not that much to see, really. It resembled a hotel room, tidy yet lacking personality. It had all that she needed but nothing she’d rush to carry out of the flames in the event of fire. Growing up, she had pinned all kind of pictures on her walls. First it had been horses, then Madonna and the Backstreet Boys, then skulls and obscure punk bands. Now her walls were bare and empty, mirroring the way she felt about herself.

  


Catelyn stood in the middle of the room. She looked at Sansa like she was a bird on her palm, sure to fly away if she made a wrong move.

”I brought you something”, she said, gesturing at the box that was by her bed now. Sansa approached it with caution, as if it indeed was a ticking time bomb. She slowly opened the flaps of cardboard. It took her a while to figure out what was inside.

  


”What’s this for? To remind me of all the expectations I failed?” she asked, holding up a pair of old ballet shoes. She had quit ballet at 15, after the teacher had told her off for skipping too many classes. The box seemed to hold bits and pieces of her childhood, from her Spice Girls CDs to Mr. Snuggles, the world-wise teddy bear with one surviving ear.

”To remind you of the person you once were.”

Catelyn was standing next to her now.

”Remember this?” she asked, reaching her hand out to her daughter.

It was a black stone, smooth and cold and heavy on her hand. It was shaped perfectly oval by the ocean. She only had vague memories of their holiday in France, but her dad picking up this stone for her on a beach in Normandie she recalled like yesterday. She remembered being fascinated by the stone and the story Ned had told about its travels through the seas, how the waves would slowly smooth out the rough edges. She had carried the stone with her the rest of the summer.

  


”After Ned… your father died, I had to reinvent myself. We grew up together, and our roots were so entangled it was impossible to tell them apart. When he was gone, I had to figure out who I was without him. Of course, I couldn’t go back to being who I was before I met him. He was a part of me now, as were the six fierce wolf pups I had raised. But I couldn’t stay Ned’s widower forever either. Going through my old stuff helped me back then. I found pieces of myself hidden in the sheets of old letters, under my old riding helmet, woven into my tennis racket.”

Sansa looked down on her hands but she could feel Catelyn’s eyes on her.

”I don’t know why but… I thought you might be going through something like that too.”

  


She picked up a photo, taken one bright summer day in a seemingly endless chain of bright summer days. Her dad was carrying her on her shoulders, her hands slung towards the perfectly blue sky, eyes squinting and nose scrunching at the sun, the widest of smiles on her face. A whole front row of milk teeth had fallen out that summer, and she had thought she should make up for it by smiling with her mouth wide open.

”He’s a part of me too”, she said, smoothing her thumb over the her father’s face. _The only part of me that I like._

 

She turned to face her mom. Up close her skin looked tired and worn. Her eyes were pale and glass-like. She looked evanescent.

  


It wasn’t like it had never occured to Sansa that one day Catelyn too would be gone. However, she wondered if some part of her, deep deep down, had actually believed that the hatred she held for her could somehow keep them bound together– an unreckonable force powerful enough to defy death. As if she couldn’t die as long as Sansa carried this resentment with her. Suddenly it hit her; unfinished business could indeed be left unfinished.

  


”I came here to… I came here to tell you how sorry I am”, Catelyn said abruptly. Sansa felt a lump in her throat; a tight knot of all the yearning, the words unspoken, the pain withheld. ”I’m the one who has failed all expectations.”

Catelyn’s face was one of a woman in agony, gritted teeth and a deep cleft on her forehead. It took all the courage Sansa had to not turn away.

”Do you remember your first day of school? You were the one to tell _me_ not to worry. You grew up so fast, so eager to catch your dreams.”

  


” _She’s a big girl, she doesn’t need me._ _S_ _he knows how to take care of herself._ I kept telling myself that. Of course you knew. You were always so brave, so clever. What I forgot was, that’s not what a fourteen-year-old needs her mother for.”

  


_You’re right._

She had needed her mother to believe in her. She had needed her to see her, not look through her. She had needed her to tell her she was beautiful. She had needed her to hear her, crying silently in the night. She had needed her to tell her dad had died because of cancer, not because she had prayed him to. She had needed her to tell her it was all going to be alright.

  


She tried to come up with words she could actually say out loud; words of forgiveness. ” _It’s okay”_ wouldn’t do, for it was not okay. There was a long way to go before _okay,_ but she knew now she was ready to take the first step towards it.

 

”I wish you’d let me back into your life once more.”

An abyss of sorrow stared back at Sansa from her mother’s eyes, and she reached out a hand to pull her up to the surface. Her fingers gently curled around her mother’s, as she found the words she was looking for.

”I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”


	10. holla at The Weeknd for me

* * *

 

 

x. holla at The Weeknd for me

 

 _Well this is a mistake_ , Sansa said to herself as she entered the spacious lobby of a modern business building through the revolving doors. The clacking of her chunky high heels against the granite was awfully noisy, as she made her way towards the elevators. She didn’t see anyone else, apart from the guy behind the receptionist’s desk, and it made her even more nervous than she already was. Maybe she was late, or early, or in the wrong building altogether. She took out her phone to check the e-mail once more.

 

_Dear Miss Stark_

_Thank you for your application. We’d be delighted to meet you for an interview on 13 May, 1.15 p.m at our offices in 45th H Street, 21st floor. Please let us know if you wish for another time slot to be arranged._

_Ellaria Sand_

_On behalf of_

_Sand Snakes Literary Agency Ltd._

 

She was in the right place, at the right time, applying for a job she had no qualifications for whatsoever. What bout of madness had taken over her, having let Margaery convince her into this?

 

When Arianne had told her about an open trainee position at the agency she worked for, and Margaery had urged her to apply, she had thought there could be no harm in trying. Now that she was actually facing the possibility of utter and thorough humiliation she started to question herself.

 

The elevator ride to the 21st floor took a fucking lifetime, and Sansa could see herself sweating in the mirror for the whole of it. She was wearing a white dress shirt and a navy pencil skirt, both from Margaery’s closet. She looked chic and professional, if Margaery’s words were anything to go by. She wondered if it was enough to fool everyone.

 

The doors slid open to reveal a state of the art office space with walls of glass and a powerful color scheme. A few people were waiting about the lobby, all young and seemingly freshly graduated from posh universities, casually yet fashionably clad in flare pants and crop tops. She began feeling stupid in her stiff costume – for a costume it was.

 

That’s when she remembered how Margaery had spoken in French with a cute Parisian guy they had met at the park the other day. She had butchered every word but had still managed to do it with grace and to get what she wanted – the guy’s number.

 

Sansa had a keen eye and was quick to learn. She had watched Margaery long enough to know how to imitate her presence. She pushed back her shoulders and her chest forward, lifting her chin up a little. She could either feel ridicilous in her out of place attire or she could own it, like Margaery would do.

 

She owned it – both the outfit and the interview – and got the job. They told her they wanted someone to sell stories the way she had sold _her_ story to them.

 

She skipped through the lobby, impatient to get to the street and let the city bask in her happiness. She grabbed her phone, and as a first instict she selected Theon’s number. It caught her as she was about to call him, the thought crossing her mind like a shadow of a butterfly fluttering over a sunny spot. Theon was not the person she was calling anymore. She pushed it aside, as she had done for days now. She was not going to let it overshadow her joy of this moment.

 

No, today she was not going to let anything bring her down from her high. She felt giddy and in bubbles, positively euphoric. _She had done it._ She had showed them. She had proven herself. Proven that there was something in her, something to believe in. Something _more_. (On other days it felt like she was merely trying to hide from the truth – that she was in fact unworthy, undeserving, unable. But today wasn’t one of those days.)

 

She called Margaery instead, and Robb, and Arya. They all told her they were proud of her, and for once she had no objections. She was proud of herself too.

 

The party was Margaery’s idea.

”News this big demand a party! Besides, your house warming party is long overdue.”

Margaery had a way of getting her will, and it wasn’t like Sansa had a strong case against it. So a party they would have.

 

Next Saturday night their small flat was buzzing with people and blasting with the Weeknd. They had turned the living room into a dance floor with a disco ball and a light projector casting a galaxy of red and green planets around the walls. She and Margaery had flowers in their hair and they wore matching pale blue dresses. It made the red in her hair burn bright and hot. She thought she looked beautiful, and for the first time in a long time she felt happy about it.

 

To Sansa, it felt like a funeral to her old life and a celebration of the new. All her loved ones were there. Well, her mother wasn’t there but she had called her earlier that day, and had actually been happy to do so.

 

She had been nervous meeting Bran and Rickon again. They had scarcely been in each others’ lives the past few years. In her mind they had always fallen into the category of _too young to understand._ Both of them were grown now, Bran being taller than her and Rickon trying to grow a beard. What category had she fallen into, the estranged sister?

 

Her concern had been in vain, though. Rickon, who had arrived with his boyfriend Tommen and looking like a surfer kid, had bounced to throw his arms around her. Bran too had hugged her thight, his cool exterior melting away.

 

Jeyne was there as well, the only part of a life abandoned she wished to keep. Judging by the sideway looks Robb was giving her, Sansa was not the only one. Jeyne had sobbed as she had told her a PG-13 version of truth of her life in London. She remembered she had relied on staying with Jeyne once she’d have left Ramsay. She had been the first person Sansa had trusted for a long, long time.

 

She sat on the side now, watching her family and friends. Arya was wearing a black suit, aptly dressed for the part of changing the world for the better. Bran looked just like the intellect he was in his slim jeans, black turtleneck and a pair of round glasses. Robb looked dashing and Jon looked brooding, as usual. The last time she checked, Rickon had no shirt on.

 

She felt warm, fluffy love wash over her, the kind that spilled from her throat and brimmed her eyes with tears. Should they ever need it, she’d have the same neverending forgiveness for them as they did for her.

 

”What are you doing here all alone, party girl?”

She glanced up to meet Robb’s eyes.

”I’m trying to commit it all to memory the best I can.”

”You sound like it’s the last party of your life.”  
”It feels like the first one”, she told him, smiling. She closed her eyes, taking the music in, feeling every beat within her. It was not the kind of music she liked but tonight it felt just right.

 

”Who’s that girl with Theon?” Robb asked, startling her.

Sansa was reluctant to look but did anyway. The girl Robb was talking about was a curvy blonde with long legs and a short black jersey dress. Her makeup was heavy and dark, but Sansa could tell she would have been beautiful without it too. She was leaning towards Theon with a drink in her hand.

”It’s Kristal. A friend of Margaery’s.”

She didn’t know Kristal very well, and she doubted Margaery did either, but she knew the blonde usually had coke with her. She had noticed Margaery liked to keep girls like Kristal in her circle, for they were the most fun to drink with. Girls with personalities like champagne. And as if to prove Sansa’s idea, Kristal threw back her head in a burst of bubbly, lively laughter that made many eyes turn her way. Theon seemed to take her hand shortly before disappearing into the crowd. Sansa knew where he was headed.

”What’s he on about? I don’t get it. Man, you should hear the way he speaks of you”, Robb muttered more to himself than to his sister. Her brain registered the words but she didn’t let herself think of them.

 

When she was 12 and desperately looking for advice on the unfathomable yet fabulous topic of _boys,_ the local librarian – a middle-aged man with a growing bald spot he combed his hair over to hide – had given her the only book he could think of. The chapters were titled with questions such as _”How long should_ _you_ _wait before calling him?”_ and _”Should you kiss on the first date?”_ She had soon discarded the book after trying to wrap her mind around the concept of _”How to ignore a guy to get his attention?”._

She didn’t need a stupid book to figure out what a fortnight of radio silence after banging someone meant.

 

She thought of the promise she had made Theon a while ago. The circumstances had changed, though. He was squatting under Robb’s roof now, and at least in her mind, Robb had the right to know the truth about his roommate.

”He’s on coke, for one thing”, she noted as Theon re-emerged from the bathroom, touching his nose and sniffing.

”Coke? You mean he’s using drugs?” Robb, only ever seeing the best in people, sounded incredulous. Sansa wondered if he had previously thought that Theon had just conveniently stumbled upon her flat the night Ramsay had tried to kill her.

”He wanted to quit. He tried to, at least.”

”Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asked with a frown.

”He asked me not to. I understood him. There are parts of my life too I want to keep hidden even from myself.”

 

The conversation was abruptly finished, as Arya swirled to grab her hands.

”Why you look so mopey, sis? Come dance!”

She pulled her up, not giving her a chance to resist.

 

Turned out Arya’s idea of _dancing_ was a mix of witless bouncing, swinging hands and whipping hair rather violently. Now wonder Gendry had refused to dance with her, as she told Sansa grudgingly. Sansa tried her best to keep up with her little sister.

”Don’t you ever run out of energy?” she shouted towards Arya’s ear.

”No, I’m self-charging!” she shrieked back, smiling gleefully.

Margaery, Jeyne and Rickon soon joined them, and despite sweating like a pig, Sansa was having the time of her life.

 

Someone bumped into her out of the blue, nearly knocking her out of balance. Turning around, she was prepared to tell the bellend to mind their fucking step. Then she realized the guy had been pushed, and the one pushing him was standing in front of her, eyes wide as black holes. She didn’t have a chance to say or do anything before the guy was going at Theon with his fists up front. Their shouting was drowned by the music, and bodies were slamming against one another anyway, so the quarrel turned fist fight went unnoticed by most. The other guy was heavy-built and probably into rugby but he was also very much boozed up, and Theon had the extra kick from the cocaine on his side, which soon led to the other guy lying on the floor, covering his face with his hands.

 

”Stop it! Theon, stop it!” Sansa’s voice was hoarse from screaming. She was holding back Arya, and her own panic. It was not the first time she witnessed something like this, an act of senseless violence. It had been an intrinsic part of her old world, a shadow cast by the brilliance of semi-professional drug use. It did not belong here, and seeing it seep through the seams into her new world was devastating, like seeing the gates of Hell open.

 

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Jon and Robb emerged from the crowd and took ahold of Theon, dragging him out. Margaery kneeled down next to the guy on the floor, a classmate of hers. His nose was bleeding and his lip was broken. After ensuring he was alright, Sansa darted to follow her brothers. Arya grabbed her arm trying to stop her but she slipped past her.

 

She ran into Jon and Robb in the stairs.

”Where is he?”

Robb pointed downstairs with his thumb. She found Theon sitting on the flight of stairs between the 2nd and 3rd floor. She sat down next to him, not saying a word. He looked up and his face brightened.

”You look beautiful. No, you _are_ beautiful. Like from a fairy tale. Totally magical.”

Her heart fluttered, just like it had when she had seen him arrive with Robb. She clipped wings off the dream before it got too far.

”Thanks”, her tone was bleak, as the bruising around his browbone reminded her of what had just happened.

 

”You didn’t invite me! That’s not nice”, he pointed out. He was fumbling a small bag of powder in his hands.

”Well, haven’t had much of a chance, have I? You barely answer the phone.”

”Been busy.”

”Doing what exactly?”  
”Flipping coffee table books. Did you know there’s such a thing? Man, rich people are fucking bananas.”

It felt surreal, quipping with him like old times, when everything was actually in pieces. She didn’t know which one had started the fight, but Theon had been the one kicking a man down. Knowing that, why was she there, siding with him?

Because there would be no one else.

 

”Sorry for wrecking your party.”

He was staring into his hands now.

”Yeah, the fuck was that about?”

”You know. I said some things, he said some things, he got really annoying, I felt like punching someone.”

”And that had nothing to do with it?” she pointed at the drugs in his hands.

”Mighta had something to do with it”, he shrugged.

”I thought you wanted to quit.”

She hated how _hurt_ she sounded. Did Theon still think he had nothing to lose? The thought made her heart sink.

”I got bored.”

”Oh, did I bore you? I apologize.”

”Well, you sure are boring me now.”

 

It had been the hardest thing in quitting: learning to withstand boredom. Being alright with doing absolutely nothing. Sometimes, when she sat on a bus stuck in rush hour traffic or listened to the neverending tales of her co-workers children acting all child-like (and presumedly fascinating to everyone), she still got the familiar craving to make life a little more interesting. Turn up the volume, paint the world a little brighter, a little more vivid. But the price for that was high, and she had already paid it twice.

 

She thought back to the first promise she had made him, in a nondescript motel room.

” _If you really want to quit, I’m going to be there for you.”_

He hadn’t kept his end of the bargain, but maybe she should try keeping hers. She thought of the train of people who had already walked out of his life. He said he had failed those people, but wasn’t it also the other way around?

 

She decided to make yet another promise.

”You’re lost, Theon. If you want to be found, call me. I’ll come find you.”

With that she left him to prepare his next line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Jeyne a Poole or a Westerling? Nobody knows.


	11. lately something has come over all of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! Sorry for the unexpected hiatus! I've been kind of busy these past weeks and haven't had the time to write. I had a pretty clear idea of what was coming next but of course, once I started writing it played out a little differently and I ended up deconstructing some scenes I had already written. I feel like this chapter doesn't really make up for the long wait, as there is not much resolve, but we'll getting there! I hope to get some writing done these next few days since I'm off from work. So you should hit that subscribe button, if you haven't already, so you know when the next chapter's out. ;------)))
> 
> Thank you for all the love! <3

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xi. lately something has come over all of me

 

Movie night had fast become a tradition for Sansa and Robb. This time he had dragged her out for a run before the main feature – he was training for the marathon and she was, well, not training. Later Sansa was spread on his couch, exhausted yet happy – for now her belly was full of the impeccable malai kofta from a Nepalese restaurant down the street. It had been Robb’s turn to pick the movie that night, so _Alien vs Predator_ was playing on the background while she was half-heartedly texting a co-worker who, judging by his awkward use of emojis, was about to ask her out. She was contemplating on a polite way to decline the eventual invitation as Robb’s phone lit up and began to buzz for attention.

 

_Theon._

 

Her stomach turned and her heart spilled over with icy water. She glanced the door on her right – the door to Robb’s former guest room, Theon’s room now– shut tight, only a dire, dusty silence behind it. It was not unlike the barrier she had put between them in her mind; it only served as a reminder of a place in her heart she didn’t want to go to.

 

She hadn’t heard from Theon since the party. What she had heard _of_ Theon was the bits and pieces gathered from Robb as a result of conspicuous prying. But as of last week, Robb had had no sight of his best friend either. Theon had vanished, as Robb had reluctantly told her, with a stack of his vinyls and his PlayStation. His downward spiral had fast-tracked.

 

They were both staring at the ominous screen.

”You should pick it up”, Sansa managed to say, swallowing with difficulty. Robb followed order in slow-motion.

”Hello.”

As she heard Theon’s muffled voice on the speaker, a wave of relief first rushed over her. She realized she had been prepared for another kind of call, the kind they had gotten from her dad’s hospital ten years ago: knowing it was coming, knowing they only called when the news were bad. At least Theon was still _alive_.

 

Alas, the relief was replaced with an ill feeling in her stomach as the call went on. She couldn’t make out the words on the other end, and neither did Robb, as he kept asking Theon the same questions over and over. That, and the deepening frown on her brother’s forehead, made her worry build.

”What’s going on?” she asked again and again, tugging Robb’s sleeve. Finally he hung up and turned back to the tv screen, pushing _’play’_. Sansa grabbed the remote and paused the film before the Alien Queen had a chance to lay another egg.

 

”What is it? What’s wrong?”

Robb steadied himself against her demanding tone. He shrugged, still staring at the screen.

”He was at some party.”

”Why did he sound scared?” she insisted. ”He sounded scared, Robb.”

”I don’t know. He’s on drugs. Probably something in his head.”

”Why did he call you?”

He shrugged again.

 

Sansa had forgotten Robb’s number one character flaw, but now it came rushing back to her: his determination bordering on obstination.

 

He had told her before how it wasn’t the loss of his stuff that insulted him, it was what he intepreted as Theon’s lack of faith in their friendship. In Robb’s mind, Theon not being honest equaled with his friend considering him untrustworthy, and _that_ was the ultimate betrayal for Robb. He couldn’t fathom how Theon had not realized that he’d help him no matter what, all he had needed to do was _ask_. Robb was hurt by the idea that Theon might think he wouldn’t understand, but his fumings only made it clear to Sansa that indeed he would not. He could never see how a chemical romance could overpower one’s life, become paramount over friends and family. That was his blessing. She, however, could see it.

 

”He called you because he needs your help!” she cried, grabbing his arm now. His face jerked just enough for Sansa to know his feigned nonchalance was faltering.

”We need to go and get him.”

”No. He doesn’t need me”, Robb said, as his jaw seemed to thrust stubbornly forward.

”Fine. I need to go and get him”, she announced, getting up. Not giving Robb another look, she made a fuss about gathering her stuff.

”You can’t go there alone!”

”Then you go with me”, she said with determination that equaled Robb’s. Calling it a battle of wills would have been a stretch, since loalty and love for his friends was as much part of Robb’s character as was stubbornness. He was sulky, but he got up nevertheless, and that was more than enough for Sansa.

 

A thought crossed her mind as she was pulling on her jacket.

”I’m going to grab a hoodie or something for him. He’s not the one to dress according to the weather.”

She hesitated only for a second before going through his door. The room was mostly empty but in a mess nonetheless. The air was gray and stale and somehow somber, as if the room was mourning the calamity of its occupant. The red company t-shirt he had to wear for work was balled up on the floor. Chocolate wrappers and empty cigarette packs were scattered here and there as if some strange tree had lost its leaves come fall. Not willing to stay too much longer, Sansa grabbed a black hoodie from the rack. She was making her way out as she noticed a piece of paper pinned on the wall above the bed. It was a note, hastily scribbled on the flipside of a McDonald’s receipt.

 

_I’ll be back._

_\- Sansa_

 

It hit her like a summer shower, warm and sudden. Somehow that pudding-head, as insufferable as he was, had managed to crawl under her skin, sneak into her soul and claim a seat right by her heart.

 

There seemed to be an endless line of construction work going on in their side of town, and it took an eternity to get to the address Theon had given. Once they parked on the street, it took no effort to find the right house, though. It was 11 p.m., and the music was blaring so loud it probably kept everyone awake in a mile-radius. The music was all but rivaled by the noise from the frontyard, where a pack of people were yelling, laughing and singing. It was as if they were trying to prove each other how much fun they were having.

Sansa and Robb pushed their way through the party-goers and into the house. They were met with drunken stares. She didn’t stop to look at her surroundings but from what she gathered the house belonged to a family, apparently with small kids. She doubted they’d meet with the owner tonight. At fifteen, she had gotten wasted at a hundred house parties exactly like this one.

 

They found Theon in the living room. He was curled up in a corner, chest tightly pressed against his thighs as if to protect himself from something. His eyes were blank and fixed into the air in front of him. His chest rose in rapid breaths, and he was trembling. He didn’t seem to recognize them as they kneeled down beside him. His lips moved, chanting uncomprehensibly.

” _Flies in their eyes, and maggots. I can feel the maggots.”_

 

There was a small crowd around them. They were mere kids, staring at her with pale faces and wide eyes. They reminded her of the gullible girl she had once been. A boy, dressed in Adidas from head to toe, was shouting to his phone.

” _I don’t know, mate, he just went ape shit! I thought he was gonna break the tv or something! Mom would’ve killed me! He wouldn’t sit down and now he won’t leave! We have to get him out of here, man!”_

”That better be 999 you’re speaking with”, Sansa hurled at the kid, snatching his phone and ending the call. She dialed the emergency number and pressed the call button.

 

”999, what’s the emergency?”

”My friend, there’s something going on with him, I think he’s overdosed”, saying the words out loud, she was terrified. The warmth in the operator’s voice, asking her for the address, made it even harder to fight back the frightened cry burning her throat.

”I need to ask you some questions now, but it won’t delay the ambulance. The help is on its way, ok?”

She replied the woman with a silent nod. She wanted to tell her it was not okay, she needed them here _now,_ she wanted to make sure they were taking this as seriously as she did, she wanted to know they didn’t think of Theon as just another junkhead ODing on a Friday night.

”When you say he has overdosed, do you know what he has taken?”

”Hold on, I’ll find out.”

”What did he take?” she asked the kid still standing next to her, gaping.

”I don’t know”, he sounded young and scared, like he was only know starting to realize the true nature of the game he had been playing.

”What did he take? Tell me, or I’ll fucking call your mom next”, she threathened, eyes aflame.

”He was drinking and… he had some coke with him. And some speed too, I think. And we had a little pot. Look, you can’t call the ambulance here, alright? Mom can’t know I’m having a party and she can’t know about the drugs!”

”If that’s what you’re worried about, you better kick these brats out of here and start cleaning up your shit! This is not some fucking Pulp Fiction, for fuck’s sake!” she yelled at the poor lad.

 

”Sorry about that”, she said to the phone. ”Did you get that?”

”Yes. Alcohol, cocaine, amphetamine and marihuana. Is he concious?”

”Yes!” Sansa exclaimed, a hint of frightened thrill on her voice. It felt promising, giving a positive answer to the operator’s question.

”Is he convulsing?”

”No! I mean, he’s trembling, but convulsing, no”, Sansa said, going back to Theon’s side where Robb was trying to keep him from clawing his skin. Her optimism faltered as she saw Theon’s face, twisted with pain, or fear of something only he could see.

”Can you feel his heartbeat? Is it faster or slower than usual?”

She placed her hand on his neck to feel his pulse, moving slowly to not scare him any further. He didn’t seem to be aware of her presence at all.

” _They are after me, they are going to kill me”_ , he repeated over and over.

”It’s very fast, I think”, Sansa told the operator.

”Ok. What kind of symptoms does he seem to have?”

”He’s”, Sansa paused, looking for the words, ”he’s acting really strange. He’s talking to himself and he seems frightened. It’s like-- it’s like he’s psychotic or something.”

She could barely hold her act together. The ghosts haunting Theon might as well have been real – that’s how scared she was. As her eyes met Robb’s, she saw he was just as horrified.

”Do you know what kind of dosage we’re dealing with here?”

”No, I don’t but… he has a history with it. I mean, he was trying to quit speed but--”

”Ok. People who have been tolerant to greater doses in the past sometimes go straight back to the dosage they are used to, resulting in overdose. Especially mixed with other drugs, psychotic symptoms are of common occurance.”

The operator’s serene voice almost angered her.

”The ambulance will be there shortly. Could you make sure someone is there to meet them? Meanwhile, try to keep him as calm as you can. If he starts convulsing or seems to lose consciousness, call back again, ok? If he becomes aggressive, just stay out of his way and wait for the paramedics.”

Sansa glanced back at Theon, who was trying to hide behind his hands now. He was not about to hurt anyone.

”Ok, thank you”, she said, unwilling to hang up. She held the phone to her ear even after hearing the sound of being disconnected.

”Can I get my phone back now?” the kid with three stripes asked impatiently. She gave him credit for doing as she had told, for the house was almost empty now.

”Has your mom not told you to stay away from drugs?” she asked handing him the phone.

”Mom’s told me great many things”, he scoffed in defiance.

”Some of them were actually true”, she noted, raising a brow. He didn’t stay to argue.

 

The four and a half minutes waiting for the ambulance were the longest of her life. Theon seemed to go deeper and deeper into his personal house of horrors and kept mumbling about maggots digging into his flesh. She and Robb could do nothing but wait and watch as he was tormented by hallucinations. She wanted to cradle him, hold him, touch him at least, but any attempt only aggravated his panicked state. Silent tears painted red streaks on her face.

 

Robb rushed to the door the moment they heard the sirens.

”No! No! Please! Don’t let them take me! Please!” Theon’s screams echoed from the walls as he was forced into the back of an ambulance by two stone-faced paramedics. It was devastating to watch, even though she knew they were only trying to help him. She couldn’t imagine what went through Theon’s mind right then.

 

She wanted to ride to the hospital with him, but they said she’d only be in the way and they’d have to sedate him in any case. The Starks were left with no other option but to get back into Robb’s car and watch the ambulance’s tail lights disappear into the night before them. Neither said a word as they drove on, the only sounds being the occasional ticking of the blinker and Sansa nervously drumming her nails against the window sill.

 

The hospital was on the other side of the town, and they were once again slowed down by the construction. Sansa was so on edge she had to bite down onto her hand to stop herself from screaming. By the time they got into the hospital, Theon had already been admitted. A sweet, sickly smell she associated with death was all around them as they rushed through the halls. No one could have stopped her from running, had there been anyone to try their luck.

 

Finally at Theon’s ward, they were greeted by a friendly nurse. Theon was laying on the bed unmoving, his skin almost as white as the sheets. His eyes were closed, his chapped lips slightly parted. He looked frail, vulnerable, untarnished like a child. She thought back to the last time she had seen him on a hospital bed. There had been blood and a gaping wound, but somehow this was even worse. At least there had been something tangible to do back then; something to patch up, a clear objective. Now there was nothing tangible in the situation, only the horrors in his own mind.

 

”The doctor has already left, I’m afraid, but I’ll try and answer your questions”, the nurse told them, smiling softly as he checked something on the bedside monitor.

”What’s going to happen to him?” Robb asked, his voice worn thin. He looked nauseous, and despite the running, his face was drained of all color. He hated hospitals, absolutely _hated_ them. For him, the air was tainted with the last dying breaths of their father.

”For now, he’s been given sedatives. If needed, an antipsychotic will be administered later. As of yet, we can’t predict the course his symptoms will take. Do you know if there’s any history of mental illness in his family?”

Sansa and Robb looked at each other and shook their heads. They didn’t know much about his family, to be honest. His dad kept to himself, and he had lost his mother at an early age. He had told her that Mrs. Greyjoy had been like some kind of a Holy Virgin type of a character in his childhood, only spoken of in hushed tones and select words.

 

”He has had panic attacks. And I’ve seen him like this before. Well, not exactly like this, not this bad. It was right after he quit. I thought it was just an anxiety attack or a nightmare, or something”, she watched the nurse write it down. She wished he didn’t look so serious.

”For some individuals stimulant use may trigger an underlying vulnerability to psychotic disorders.”

The nurse gave her a sympatethic look as she started to sniff again. Robb pulled her in a hug, and his chest was heaving too.

”Is there anyone I should call? Family?” the nurse asked.

”No”, Sansa managed with a trembling voice. ”Well, there is his father but I don’t know if he’d want you to call him.”

For right now, they were the closest thing Theon had for a family.

 

Only now did Sansa notice she was still carrying Theon’s hoodie. She pressed her face against the fabric before folding it by his bed. It smelt of what could have been the sea, her own tears or simply french fries.

 


	12. the dim light, we can see them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I'm nervous about posting this chapter! It's pivotal to Theon's backstory and character, and it's also kind of like the darkest hour of the story, and I wanted to get it right. Not sure how I succeeded. Anyway, here we go!

* * *

 

 

xii. the dim light, we can see them

 

The nurse, as kind as he was, did not let Sansa stay the night at the hospital. She would not have it easily. The idea of going home, brushing her teeth and changing into pyjamas like nothing was amiss felt preposterous. _”_ _You need some rest”_ was his gentle way of saying she had no control whatsoever over the situation. She felt like she needed to be there nevertheless, like something bad would happen if she wasn’t. Her pleas weren’t heard, though, and she had no other option than to join Robb in his car once more. 

 

The feeling followed her home, a shadow on her steps. Her mind was filled with images and sounds from the past hours. The flashing lights, Theon screaming, and finally his face,  ghost-like on the hospital bed. There was no way she was getting any sleep tonight. Yet, as she  slipped under the covers, exhaustion  overtook her. Her head started to feel as heavy as her muscles; she was so heavy and so tired. So tired.

 

She woke up with a startle.  T he room was full of light,  lemony sunlight pouring on the floor. She grabbed her phone in frenzy. 

It was 10.20.

 

She cursed out loud, bouncing up from the bed. She had wanted to be in the hospital first thing in the morning. How could she have overslept with all that worry churning her stomach?  She pulled on the clothes from yesterday and rushed out. 

 

Her restlessness kept growing during the bus drive to the hospital. It was gnawing at her guts like a greedy worm. Every time the bus halted to a stop she wanted to climb from her seat and grab the wheel. The looming figure of the hospital finally appearing into her vision did nothing to appease her fear. She couldn’t shake the idea that any moment she wasn’t there something horrible and irreversible could take place. She kept telling herself it was merely her brain trying to trick her into thinking she had some control over what was happening. Yet it only thickened, taking a more palpable form as she once again hastened through the disinfectant-smelling corridor. Reaching the door, she tasted bile on her mouth.

 

Theon had been moved into a four-bed ward some time during the night. Each bed was surrounded by a white curtain, creating a shaky illusion of privacy. Theon’s curtain had been pulled aside, and she met his eyes across the room.

”Theon!” she shrieked as tears of relief welled up in her eyes. She skipped to his side. He didn’t return her smile.

”Why do you look so happy?” he croaked. His eyes looked like two bruises and the fluorescent lightning casted harsh shadows on his hollowed cheeks.

”I was afraid you might die, of course I’m happy!” she wanted to take his hand, but something in his expression put her off.

 

”They called dad. He was not happy.”

Sansa froze. So that’s what she had been running against, and lost to.

”He told me he wished I’d stop dragging the good old Greyjoy name through the dirt. I guess what he meant was I couldn’t even get killing myself right. What can I say, I never fail to disappoint”, with those bitter words he averted his gaze. His whole being seemed to be weighed down, burdened by existence. She didn’t know how to deal with his gloomy spirits that were so at odds with her own.

”Are you alright?” she asked, sitting down with haste.

”They’ve pumped me up with benzos, of course I’m alright”, he replied without a hint of humor.

 

”You know, it’s the second time you’ve stolen my soul from the death-god’s clutches. I think you should have let me die the first time.”

Sansa had never heard him talk like this, not this dark. He wasn’t hopeless; on the contrary, he seemed to resent any idea of hope. She wrapped her arms around her. Every inch of him denounced her. The callous tone of his voice, his eyes cast aside, the austere line of his mouth ( _strange, unsettling_ ), all pushing her away. Yet she felt a pull, an almost inexistent tug towards him.

”Don’t talk like that!” she raised her tone. ”I need you here, Theon. And Robb too. He needs his best friend.”

”You and your brother”, he scoffed, ”You’re both bloody fools for thinking I’m worthy.”

”No!” she cried out, angry and fearful. ”You’re a fool, for thinking you’re _not_ worthy.”

The convict in her words astonished her. Those were the kind of words she had been shrugging off for years.

”You keep saying that yet you really don’t know a thing about me, do you?”

The steel in his voice cut her breath.

 

”Sometimes I think I can actually see the blood on my hands. I try to wash it away, I scrub my hands raw, but it’s no use. It’s my mark, after all. So I’ll never forget what I’ve done”, he said, studying his palms. At first Sansa thought he was hallunicating again, but his voice was calm and coherent now.

”What do you mean?” she was desperate to understand, for him to let her in.

Suddenly he raised his eyes to meet with hers. The agony in them was loud and clear, and so was the plea, although carefully hidden.

”You really want to know what I’ve done? You really want to see the rot in my soul?”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Honestly, she was done with all things rotten. From now on, she wanted her life to be painted in sweet pastels and bright colors, covering the muddy dark hues of her past. But she wanted Theon in her life, too. So she said what she was supposed to say, as a heroine of her own story.

”Tell me.”

 

”I’ve killed people, Sansa”, he said without mercy.

”You were at a war”, she replied self-evidently, trying not to think of the actualities of his words.

”That’s what a war is. Killing people.”

He fell back into the pillows.

”When I close my eyes at night… It’s not only the things I’ve seen. It’s the things I’ve heard, the things I’ve _smelt._ Yeah, the smell really is the worst. You know what burning of human flesh smells like? No, I reckon you don’t. Me neither. Can’t quite put it down in words. Off-putting, I’d say.”

 

”When I go to sleep, I smell it. When I wake up, I smell it”, he sounded exhausted. ”Ramsay knew what I really was from the start. He must’ve smelt it too. I guess that’s why he called me Reek. A name I earned.”

Sansa shuddered. She remembered thinking not that long ago that Ramsay was the only person to know the truth of her. Theon was under the same malevolent spell. It was peculiar how painstakingly, _deliciously_ , another person’s hatred could foster your own self-loathing.

 

”What happened, Theon?” she asked, not daring any more than a whisper. ”What happened in Afghanistan?”

He seemed to be deep in a memory, only a part of him present in the hospital room with her. His eyes were hazy and unfocused, the blue of them swirling trepidly. She didn’t know how to save him from the dreadful depths.

”I-- It was a small town by the mountains. There was an explosion. And a fire. Me and a few others, we were sent to evacuate a school building. Half of the roof had already collapsed, and the fire was spreading fast. There was this kid, a small lad… I knew his father, he had a farm outside the town and he provided our troops with fresh water. The kid was stuck under a fallen column, and all that was left of his legs was a gory pile of mush. I tried to pull him out, but I couldn’t, and he just kept screaming like an animal. The whole building was about to come crushing down, and my mates told to me to get away from there. The kid’s face was a muddle of blood and ash, it was falling down from the ceiling like rain. He was still screaming. I-- I tried to push off the column, but it wouldn’t budge. I wasn’t strong enough. There was another explosion. I got out just in time; I saw the building collapse in front of me, effortlessly like a house of cards. Even after, I heard the boy scream. It was all I heard for hours. I was later told it was an acoustic shock because of the blast wave.”

It was impossible for him to stop once he had started. He had closed his eyes, and his features were loud with pain. His words had evoken a gut-wrenching image in her mind too, and to him, it must have been a thousand-fold worse.

 

”43 people died that day. All the victims had to be rounded up and inspected by the coroner. The three of us were charged with guarding the bodies. All day their relatives kept coming, asking to take their loved ones home for mourning and a swift burial. We had strict orders. There were so many bodies and only few of us… we had to put them in a pile. Hours after hours we stood guard in the blazing sun. The flies had a feast that afternoon. At first I kept flailing them off, disgusted. I gave up eventually, not caring if the fly crawling on my skin had just been laying eggs in someone’s eye. But the smell… oh gods, the smell. That I couldn’t get used to. I don’t know which was the worst – the army of the dead, the army of flies or the army I was a part of.”

 

Sansa wished he hadn’t told her. She wished to rewind to a time when she had thought whatever was burdening Theon was something trivial and simple, something to be resolved with homespun psychology and a few aphorisms. This was something else entirely, something she was afraid she couldn’t handle.

 

”I left that boy to die. I should have tried to help him, even if it had killed me. Who knows what he could have grown up into? A doctor, a leader to bring peace, or maybe just a good father to his children. I was spared, and look what became of me! I should have died that day”, he buried his face into his hands.

 

S he felt him drift further away from him, maybe too far for her to reach.  S he had thought his  revelation was a way to bring them closer – an act of trust. Perhaps it  had been a deathbed confession after all. 

 

She grabbed his arm forcefully, making him flinch.

”No! What good do you think that would have done?”

There was a lump in her throat but more obtrusive than that, a fire in her chest.

”Your guilt won’t fix anything, Theon. It won’t bring the boy back. Burning your life down to ashes won’t give him back his life. It won’t bring his family any solace. It-- it only destroys me too”, her voice was breaking, her heart was breaking, but she pushed on. She couldn’t give up; she had to find the fight in her to find the fight in Theon.

With fervor she went on. ”You can’t hang on to that. You have to let go. Let go, remember? You’re the one who taught me that.”

 

”You did what you did because you wanted to live. So please, live”, it was half a prayer, half a manifesto. ”I used to think I’d be better off dead, too. Sometimes I still have that voice in my head, telling me to kill myself. I have chosen to refuse believing it. _Refuse to believe it_ , okay?”

Her valour was drowning in an ocean of tears. There was so much more she wanted to say. Some of it she didn’t dare to think of.

 

Theon was again looking past her, and she couldn’t tell if her words had evoked anything in him at all. His hand fell limp onto the bed as she let it go.

 

She didn’t get a chance to say anything else, as the curtain was opened in one brisk movement.

”Good news!” a young nurse happily chanted. ”The doc’s going to discharge you later today.”

Sansa gave Theon a startled look. To her, he didn’t seem fit to go home.

”We’d like to refer you for treatment”, the nurse went on while preparing to take Theon’s blood pressure. ”Since it’s not exactly your first rodeo.”

”Yes!” Sansa blurted, knowing full well it wasn’t her decision to make.

”Yeah, whatever”, Theon muttered, clearly unenthusiastic.

 

”Where will you go?” Sansa asked once they were left alone again. Theon attempted to shrug, the gesture being lost in the tower of pillows.

”Please go back to Robb’s”, she tried not to sound like she was begging, but she was. She wanted to shake him by the shoulders; do anything to wipe that look of indifference, of defeat, off his face. That look she had seen on many faces before. An impregnable wall of glass, growing stronger by day, behind which nothing else mattered than the next hit. 

”Can’t. I fucked it up. He told you, didn’t he?”

”He did, but--”

_That’s not what you do after you fuck up._ _You don’t run._ _You swallow your pride and say you’re sorry._

She wished she could say it; wished it were true for him. They operated by different rules, a lone Greyjoy and a Stark pup. Besides, she had done her fair share of running, so she really wasn’t the one to give any lectures.

 

”Sorry, love, but the visitation hour is over”, it was the same nurse, now popping in with a tray of medicine, like refreshments for some bizarre cocktail party. ”The doctor’s going to do her rounds soon.”

Sansa was reluctant to leave him like this. She was looking down at a well of wretchedness, and though she wanted nothing more than to pull him up, she didn’t know what more she could do. Besides, she knew the risk of being pulled down herself. She had built something for herself, a life anew, but it was merely standing on best intentions, untried promises and whiffs of dreams. It was still too fragile. 

 

The nurse was looking impatient now, and s he started to make her leave.  She said her goodbyes, nervous of them sounding too alike farewells. 

 

” I’ll see you around, Sansa”,  Theon called out right before she left. She braved a little smile. It was not the promise she wished to hear, but a promise nevertheless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I have your full attention during the following PSA: there are 3 chapters left!


	13. no longer seem to weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing I love about Hurt/Comfort as a concept is that you can write heart-wrenching angst right next to the cheesiest fluff, and get away with it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <3

* * *

 

 

xiii no longer seem to weep

 

The colors turned from poisonous green to emerald to black of an opal as she kept sinking.  Seaweed coiled tightly around her arms and legs, like strings of wet hair, digging deep into her skin. Her movements were slow and sluggish, as if she was an insect stuck in amber. In the back of her mind she knew she was supposed to look for something, but she didn’t know where to find  it , or how to reach it. She tried  her hardest to hold on to the last ray of light but  it s h attered in her fingers.  She opened her mouth to call a name, and the water, rising to the occassion, filled her lungs. 

 

She was ashore now, a grey sky and a grim sea accompanying her. The bodies were floating face down in the wash, flesh as white as the bones beneath it, emitting an eerie glow below the shallow water. Their arms were spread as if the wings of an angel, shunned from the gates of heaven.

She kept on looking, knowing it was too late now.

 

His eyes opened wide and dead as she turned his body around.

 

_Theon_ .

 

She woke up to her heart pounding, or so she thought. She stared at the dark ceiling, grabbing the sheets, as if to fight the nightmare’s pull. First, it was the arrythmic sound of bare feet on the wooden floor reaching her ears, and second, the persistent knocking on their front door. She got up at once, rushing out of the room to see what was going on. Her mind was already churning out _what-ifs_ , each worse than the last. Maybe she had never woken up, maybe it was yet another bad dream.

 

Sansa spotted Margaery on the doorway; her silhouette upon the soft yellow light from the stairway cut sharp and clean. She was talking with someone in a hushed tone.

”What’s going on?”

Sansa doubted good news ever arrived in the dark of the night.

In the hall stood an elderly man whom she recognized as their downstairs neighbour. He was wearing a smoking jacket and a scornful look.

”Are _you_ Sansa?” he inquired impatiently. ”There’s a lad on the street, throwing pebbles on my window. Almost flung one up my face! He says he wants to talk to you.”

Sansa nodded, looking apologetic. Judging by the pure idiocy of it all, it could only be one person.

”Do you know this dobber?”

”I think I do, yes”, she said with a sigh.

”Then tell him to slide you a DM next time, or whatever it is you children do these days”, the old gentleman scoffed before heading back downstairs.

 

”It’s Theon”, she explained to Margaery, who looked puzzled.

”Are you sure?”

”Pretty sure”, she said, slipping her feet into her shoes. After the dream, and the scare of a doorbell ringing in the night, her heart was still up by her throat. An image of Theon’s face, dull and lifeless, flashed before her. She focused on feeling her feet against her soles. The reality was steady and sound; it would not give beneath her.

 

The cold took her by surprise, making her gasp. The ink of the night run darkest in the heights of the sky, watered down towards the horizon. Sansa looked up, trying to catch the Little Bear as she often did on bright nights like this.

 

Theon stood in the middle of the pavement, rigid yet restless. He seemed to be overflowing with pointless energy, lacking any direction or meaning – the epitome of amphetamine.

”I lost my phone”, he said at once. ”I-- Someone took it, I think.”

”Is that why you’re here?” she asked. She saw a glimpse of Margaery standing guard in her bedroom window, apparently making sure she was alright. She waved a hand at her and watched her turn off the light.

”No.”

”Why then?” she tried to keep her voice neutral, not giving away a shed of hope.

”I don’t know.”

 

Sansa let out a sigh and made him sit down on the curb. A silence fell between the two, but this time it was of the comradely kind. She studied his fidgety figure while trying to sort out her thoughts. She felt the words, yet unborn, in the air, but she didn’t want to coerce him into speaking his mind.

 

It had been a week since she had last seen him at the hospital, and to be frank, she had tried to banish all wishful thinking. She knew the nature of addiction first hand, the kind of all-consuming monster it was. The other behemoths Theon was fighting, she didn’t have the means to save him from either – not as long as he refused to reach out a hand.

 

She had tried to stop worrying, too. His miserable face haunting her, it was not as easy as giving up hope. She had pushed it off during the day but it came back to her at night when she was unguarded. But something seemed different about him now. He was still pale as the winter sun, still high as a kite, still dragging his shadow behing him like a ball of chains. Yet there it was, a glimmer in his eyes, like a blinking satellite in the darkness.

 

What she had lost, he had found.

 

The chilly air run a violent shiver down her spine.

Theon gave him a look of concern. ”You’re cold.”

”I’ll manage”, she insisted, but once she had started to shiver, she didn’t seem to know how to stop.

”Don’t be stupid.”

He started taking off his hoodie. She noticed it was the same one she had brought him at the hospital.

She refused to take it, the sudden fondness crumbling away her last resolve, so he wrapped it around her shoulders. Almost despite herself she snuffled it. _Yep, definitely french fries._

 

”I don’t know why I keep fucking it up”, he said after a while. ”I don’t mean to.”

He kept tying and untying his shoelaces, an ill force pulling at his joints, not giving him a moment’s rest.

”I know it’s no excuse, but I-- I just got scared.”

 

”I realized I was falling for you. So damn hard”, he confessed.

”I was falling for you too”, she said earnestly. Head first and no helmet on. It was scary as fuck, she admitted it.

”The way you look at me… I knew that eventually you’d see me, the real me, the whole of me. That’s what scared me. I can’t let anyone see that. Least of all you. You’d be disgusted, it would drive you away.”

He was choking on his words now. She understood him. Carrying a festering wound like that was excruciating. Revealing it to someone was downright petrifying. All her life she had been covering hers. The thing with wounds she had only recently started to realize was that sometimes other people knew better how to tend to them.

”I’m not going anywhere”, she said softly.

”Yeah, I’m starting to notice”, he said with a hint of mirth.

 

”Actually, I do know why I’m here”, he added in a moment. ”I have an appointment tomorrow. At the treatment center, that is. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

”Of course”, she said without hesitation, unable to contain her glee.

”I know it’s hardly anyone’s idea of a dream date”, he was grinning sheepishly now. She savoured every bit of his old self, _true_ self, coming through.

”To hell with that. What time is it?”

”8.15.”

”Great. I can easily get to the office by 10.”

He seemed content, although a little nervous. ”So that’s settled then.”

Sansa stared at their feet, side by side, suddenly feeling shy.

 

”In my list of regrets, there’s one thing I’d like to fix right now”, he said, sounding mischievious. The change in tone was welcome.

”And what’s that?” she asked, raising a brow.

”I didn’t get a chance to dance with you at your party.”

She thought herself beyond blushing by now, but that’s what she did. ”Let’s get to it then.”

 

He got up and asked for her phone. The intent look on his face as he searched for a suitable song made her heart swell. When he carefully propped the phone against a rubbish can, the first chords of Justin Bieber’s _Sorry_ flowed into the night. She burst out laughing.

”Didn’t take you for a Belieber.”

”It’s rubbish, I know”, he chuckled. ”He just put it into words better than I can.”

He offered her a hand. ”May I have this dance?”

”You may have all my dances tonight.”

His hand was surprisingly warm.

 

They danced in the streetlight, watched over by a battalion of stars. Theon lipsynced – rather miserably – to the chorus, making her double over with laughter. It was one of those moments you wished to last forever, at the same time impatiently waiting for what comes next. For how much they wanted to touch each other, there had to be a bump in the Earth’s magnetic field. Finally the music shifted for a much softer, gentler tune, which gave them an excuse to pull closer. Theon’s hand found a place on the curve of her back – it fit there perfectly, like it was meant for. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as he stroked her hair. She didn’t need a shooting star to grant her wishes tonight.

 

Leaning on to each other, heartbeat to heartbeat, made them lose track of time. Unfortunate to them, some people were still keeping a close eye on it.

A window pane creaked open and her downstair neighbour’s disgruntled face appeared. ”It’s 2 in the morning, for Pete’s sake! Get to bed or get lost!”

”Is it too late now to say sorry?” Theon shouted back at him, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

Sansa tried her best to look scolding. ”Shut up, he’s going to get us evicted!”

”And he’s right too. It’s late. Do you want to stay the night? Mind you, it’s not like you have a choice.”

 

They climbed upstairs as quiet as they could, hushing each other to the point where both ended up giggling. Was his high somehow contagious? She knew the lull they had reached was merely temporary, and there were rough seas ahead. But this was the in-between, and she basked in it.

 

At last they collapsed on Sansa’s bed. He nested his head on her chest, as he had done before. As soon as she closed her eyes she felt sleep tugging her mind, pulling her to a dream. Only this time she wasn’t afraid of nightmares. He was there, guarding her sleep. Before fading into black, she kissed his forehead.

”See? You found it. A place where you belong.”

 


	14. i like this elevation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I've loved writing this, I know it has to end. I'm starting to be out of things to say here (and I've already exceeded the limit of sea-themed references for one story), only have a few threads left to tie. I hope to get the final chapter written soon. I know how it's going to play out, just not how to write it yet.

* * *

 

 

xiv. i like this elevation

 

The waiting room was like any other. A few sofas – plastic, to make cleaning easier; gray, to not evoke extreme emotion. A few plants, also of plastic. A stack of magazines, all from the early 2010’s, mostly of the _House & Garden_ type, perhaps to give the visitors ideas of how to spend their spare time and money after getting dry. Only by the infographics one could tell they were not there to see a dentist. A morbid gallery of meth faces, fatty livers and hepatitis-C spread across the walls.

 

Desperate for distraction, Sansa had picked up an outdated fashion magazine. She read the same line, over and over, not understanding a word of it. She checked the cover to make sure it wasn’t _Vogue Italia_ after all. She kept glancing at the door behind which Theon had vanished over half an hour ago. Her mind was spinning, and she chewed on her lip. All she could think about was what might have been going on behind the closed door. She wanted to hear them say they would help him. She wanted to hear him say he would let them. That’s all.

 

And what if ( _oh, how tired she was of living a life in which_ _conditional more often than not turned into past tense_ ), what if he refused and walked away?

 

She saw it dangling in the air, Theon’s lifeline. A feeble cord swaying in the wind. It could snap any moment. She could not hold on to it on her own. She was no Hercules, she could not go to the netherwold and come back alive. She would have to cut him loose. In her heart of hearts, she knew she could not.

 

Her sister’s words rung loud in her mind.

” _Don’t go living some kind of Sid and Nancy love story with Greyjoy either, okay?”_

She had once been a champion for love like that, the two against the world kind of love. Love that kept your pulse high and your breath short. Love that only reaped chaos and mayhem in its leave. No good had it ever done her. And yet, there was no hiding from the truth – she was painfully, entirely in love with him.

 

She closed her eyes to picture it in front of her, him lying on the hospital bed, the darkness he bore. She thought of the realm of nightmares she had lived in for so many years. Self-sufficient, closed from the world, unseen by others. Where nothing else mattered but the drug. Stopped existing, almost – your family, your past, your future.

 

Lately, she had started to remember things. Things she had seen, things she had done, things that had been done to her. Things she didn’t quite remember but _knew,_ things she felt. She wanted to drown the memories, yet they kept surfacing. She wished to cut off that part of her life, like one would do to something that was rotten. It was catching up on her instead, reminding her she was merely pretending to be something other than she was. She could hear the clock ticking towards midnight, time to take off the masks.

 

She opened her eyes. She could not, would not, let that darkness swallow her again.

 

The lock rattled, and she bounced up at the sound like on a spring. Her heart was racing, her mouth dry, as she waited for someone to come out. The handle was pushed down, and she heard muffled speech through the door. He hadn’t rushed out, which she thought promising.

 

And finally, there he was. Bemused, red-eyed, vulnerable. She ran to him and took his hand.

”You okay?”

He nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ”Come, I’ll walk you to work.”

 

They didn’t talk until a few blocks away. They were still holding hands, like it had been impossible to let go.

”Thanks for going with me.”

”No biggie”, she said. It was a lie. They both knew he wouldn’t have gone alone. ”How was it?”

”Harder than I thought”, he sighed. ”And also, somehow, easier. I don’t know. The guy asked some questions and… things started making more sense.”

”Are you going there again?” she held her breath unwittingly.

”No.”

Her hand fell limp in his.

”I mean, not to that same place. He said-- he thinks I have PTSD. You know, from the thing I told you about. He said hallucinations and stuff like that are not unheard of. He told me that since I’m a war veteran, I should be entitled to free treatment. So he’s going to refer me somewhere else for that.”

He looked a little bewildered, like the idea of receiving help was alien to him.

 

She jumped to clasp him, throwing her arms tightly around his angular frame. Slowly he moved his arms to hug her. She pressed her face on his shoulder, clingling onto his snotty t-shirt. Tears ran down her chin, staining the fabric. She felt his hand on the side of her head, stroking her hair with tremor. His chest heaved, then she heard the choked cries escaping his throat.

 

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Probably not that long, for the world was exactly as they had left it. It felt strange to Sansa – how could that traffic light still be red, how could those sneakers still be on sale, how could that guy still be drinking his coffee on the other side of street, as if nothing had happened? As if a man condemned had not just gotten back his life?

 

”You look a wreck”, she heard him say in the softest tone. She cursed under her breath and, without thinking, wiped her cheeks on the sleeve of her ivory button-up.

She gave a yielding laugh as she stared at the black mascara stains on her sleeve. ”That didn’t help, did it?”

He shook his head intently and tried to clean her face using his thumbs, probably only smearing her mascara further.

 

”What’s next?” she asked after she had somewhat managed to tidy up her face and they were on the move again. Theon ran a hand through the mess of his hair.

”I don’t know. It took me less than a month to throw away everything I had. I’m not sure where to start getting it all back.”

”I think it’s time you went home.”

The look he gave her was almost fearful.

”You mean to Robb’s?”

”Yeah. Where else would you call home?”

A shadow landed on his face.

”I doubt he’d want me there. Not after that shit I pulled.”

”I bet Robb would appreciate your Bieber moment even more than I did”, she quipped, trying to bring a smile on his face.

”I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

Sansa knew a thing or two about redemption. How could you atone when your whole existence was foul? Making amends for the rest of your life was indeed a scary prospect.

 

”He misses you. And you’d do me a favor too. I can’t watch another Die Hard sequel.”

At that he smiled.

”We’ll go together, okay?” she added, clasping his hand again. They had reached the Sand Snakes office.

”Okay”, his voice was small like a child’s. She wanted to tell him how brave he was, but that’s when her phone started to ring.

”Shit! It’s Ellaria. I gotta go, I’m running late”, she gave him a hurried hug. ”Get a new phone. I’ll see you at Robb’s at seven!”

She waved at him, reluctant to leave him on his own. She realized she’d have to start to believe in him.

 

Nine hours later they once again waited at Robb’s doorstep. She thought of the last time and how much had changed since. Back then she had seen herself as someone who could only take, take, take. Now she was starting to think she had something to give. Her debt to her loved ones was enormous still, but she was fueled with gratitude more than guilt. The days she woke up hating herself had gotten fewer and fewer, and on some days there was a fleeting idea that maybe, _maybe_ she wasn’t so bad after all. That maybe, contrary to her firm belief, she deserved to be happy and loved.

 

Theon, standing by her side, was as gawky and highly strung as ever. Not all change can be seen from the outside, though. One could not fall in love and not change at least a little, could they?

And finding someone to trust, that definitely had the power to spin one’s world around.

 

”Déjà vu”, Robb greeted them with a sardonic tone that didn’t go well with his character.

”We come bearing gifts!” his sister chirped, holding up a stack of pizza boxes. Robb’s high morals didn’t make him immune to bribery. His gaze hovered a few inches from Theon as he let them in, as if he was too vexed to look directly at his best buddy. His face had always been easy to read. A mix of hurt, irritation and delightful surprise was written all over it.

 

This time the guys didn’t turn down her offer to leave them alone. She left the pizzas on the kitchen counter and retreated to the patio to smoke. She couldn’t resist the temptation to spy on them through the glass door. They were entrenched on the opposite sides of the couch at first, exchanging wary looks. Theon was the first one to speak. It was as if Robb had only waited for him to extend a hand (just a finger, even), for the strange, stiff look on his face melted away on an instant. They talked in turns, intently listening to each other. She saw Theon mouthing _”I’m sorry”_ and burying his face into his hands. Robb moved over to hug him.

 

Sansa thought back to their childhood, and how Theon had, more often than not, inconspiciously showed up at their dinner table. Had he ran away from home? Had anyone missed him while he was gone? What did he have for dinner when he wasn’t with the Starks? Robb would know; he had probably been the one to comfort Theon back then as well.

 

Their bond was stronger than she had realized.

_Stronger than mine and his_ , she thought. They shared roots, him and Robb. For Sansa and Theon, it was the branches that were entangled. Now that they were all together, they could stand tall against any storm. 

 

Soon Robb was showing Theon something from his phone, probably one of those stupid memes he seemed to love and she never understood. She heard their laughter through the class panel and figured it was her cue to enter. The change in the atmosphere was palpable. Robb seemed to be in a downright celebratory mood and even Theon looked more relaxed, his burden a little lighter. Their eyes met across the room, and the tumultuous ocean in his was serene for once. There was a promise, and an invitation, in the curve of his smile. It made her a little dizzy, all of a sudden.

 

It didn’t take them long to devour three pizzas. Sansa was in a state of blissful swell, having just finished the last of Theon’s crusts, resulting from a victorious _rock, paper, scissors_ against Robb.

”So… I got a new Xbox. Wanna play Halo?” Robb asked Theon, ignoring his sister groaning between them.

”Sure. Never played that, though.”

”You better watch closely as I kick your ass then, right?” Robb boasted.

”Right”, Theon accepted the challenge with a nod and a wide grin. The bromance seemed steady again, and since the guys clearly didn’t need her anymore, she thought of going home. Her stomach was full, her limbs heavy and the couch so incredibly soft, though, that she opted to lay there a little longer.

 

She was awakened from her contented slumber by her phone buzzing.

”Hey Robb”, she said after reading the text. His eyes were fixed on the screen as his character was shooting away. For his lack of reaction she didn’t know if he heard her or not. ”Remember Jeyne? She asked for your number.”

He flinched and missed his target, cursing loudly. He regained his composure fast enough but the red on his cheeks betrayed him no matter how cool he tried to sound. ”And?”

”And I gave her Jon’s”, she said with an airy tone. ”Told her she’s better off with him than a bonehead like you.”

He nearly dropped his controller now. Had Theon not come for his aid, it’d have been game over. ”What!?”

”Just kidding!” she chirped. ”Can’t believe you haven’t done anything about it, though.”

”I didn’t know if she was interested”, he muttered.

”Well, she is. I don’t know why. I took her for a smart girl but I guess I was wrong.”

”Ha ha. Keep flapping those lips, sister.” He tried to look stern but his mouth twitched to a smile.

 

The wicked grin on Sansa’s face alarmed him, as she kept texting. ”What are you doing?”

”Only regrettedly telling her you are not ready to date as you can’t get past your first kiss from Aunt Lyanna.”

Theon snorted, as Robb’s controller flung on the floor and his character was down.

”It wasn’t my first kiss!”  
”Right, I forgot about the ass kissing you had to do get into that soccer team”, she was pushing all the buttons now, as only a sibling could.

”You brat!” he yelled, trying to catch her phone. She jumped back with a shriek of joyful thrill. Robb darted after her. She wondered if part of why he rarely got angry with her was because he knew she would never take him seriously.

 

”Whose side are you on, Greyjoy?” Robb called as Sansa jumped on to the couch for safety.

Theon grabbed her legs and pulled her down, toppling over her. He smiled regretfully as he handed her phone over to Robb.

”Sorry, Sansa.”

For a fleeting moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She could feel the warmth of his breath tickling her face. One blink, and the moment was gone.

 

”I’ll teach you to mess with me!” Robb bellowed and grabbed her ankles. Together the guys carried her to the bathroom and forced her into the tub. She refused to beg for mercy and was rewarded with a cold shower. She managed to catch the shower head and soon they were all cold, soaked and laughing.

All was well for now, and she wouldn’t have dared to ask for more.

 


	15. you and me, you and me

* * *

 

xv. you and me, you and me

 

A happy childhood she had been granted, and then all had gone to hell. That was the story Sansa had told around, served with a bitter smile. The story of her life, a gritty tale. Not quite a page-turner, and certainly not bound for a happy ending.

 

But now-- now the word kept circling back in her mind. _Happy._ The sound of it kept growing on her.

 

On a day like this – the sky azure blue, the sun tenderly kissing her cheeks, the leaves whispering softly in the wind – it felt particularly fitting. She took the street by long strides, almost flying. Her feet hadn’t been this light for a long time.

 

She stopped at a crossing and raised her chin, giving in to the sun’s caresses. A memory of her childhood, of another summer day, of being happy, came to her. Her back against the cool sand, red velvety light beaming through closed lids, the summer wrapping around her like a blanket. The woes of adult life as foreign as the crackling language of seagulls. She wasn’t afraid of the waves tickling her toes as she knew she’d float.

 

She wasn’t sure if it really was any one memory, or a collection of memories seamlessly woven together. Moments like that had been manifold in her childhood, and she had not kept count on them, at that time trusting there’d always be more ahead.

 

She thought she had lost all connection to that child when she had lost her father. As if she had stepped into a wormhole and come out another person. Only now had she began to find traces of her younger self within her. The child with a smile like she had swallowed the sun.

 

And then, there was something else circling back in her mind. A name, a face, a certain laughter--

 

”Hey, watch it!”

Sansa barely managed to step out of the bike’s way. ”Sorry!”

Right, it was no time for daydreaming for she had to keep going as well. She sped up, not because she was in a hurry (although theoretically she was, as it was her lunch break) but because she was so damn excited. The idea had struck her like an apparition in the middle of the forenoon meeting, and she just had to make it happen right then and there. She had rushed out of the office as soon as Mrs Sand had finished the presentation. First she had dropped by the realty office where they’d told her Theon was on site, staging a listing for a showing. They had given her the address, and luckily it wasn’t too far from the office.

 

Sweat trickled down her back and her face was lobster red by the time she got to the site. The violently red company car was parked in front of a Victorian terraced house with bay windows that protruted from the roof like noses of a very curious character in a children’s book. The door was open, and Sansa stepped right in. She was greeted by the smell of chocolate cookies.

 

She met Theon’s co-worker, a freckled redhead, in the hall. He made her wear blue plastic bags on her feet before ushering her into the living room. She found Theon there, staring intently at something with a bouquet of flowers in each hand.

Hearing the swish of footsteps, he asked, ”Whaddya think, Howie, roses or carnations?”  
”Carnations. Roses are tacky.”

The look on his face when he turned around made her head spin. For a brief moment she saw herself in his eyes – the girl he fell for. She liked that image.

 

They had not really talked about it – them, their feelings, any of it – since the night of dancing on the street. It was not like they were avoiding it, it just didn’t feel timely. Definitions, declarations, decisions, it was too early for all of that. For now it was enough to know he was there.

 

He gave her a sweaty hug and a light kiss on the forehead.

”Are you here to buy a house?”

”This one’s a little too Barbie Dreamhouse for my taste”, she noted, pointing at the obnoxiously pink wall in front of her.

”I told the boss we should repaint that fucking wall”, he moaned. ”Seriously, what are you doing here?”

”Besides giving you my educated opinion on florals?” she snickered. As she was about to reveal the true reason behind her visit she suddenly felt self-conscious. What if her meddling was unwelcome?

 

”Remember when you said you want people to call yours? I know you got Robb, and me--”, the words made her blush, ”but I know there’s a few more people you miss.”

She hunted through her bag and handed him a train ticket. She didn’t know what to make of the perplexed look on his face.

”Liverpool?”

A smile turned into a frown, an epiphany followed by anxiety. ”Yara lives in Liverpool. Sansa, I-- I don’t know if I’m ready to go there. What if she tells me to fuck off?”

She drew breath, having prepared to overcome resistance.

”She won’t! And you don’t have to go alone, I’m coming with you. Whatever happens, I’m going to be right there.”

He kept staring at the ticket without a word.

”It’s not going to get any easier, is it? When is the right time if not now?”

He looked up and gave her a tentative smile.

”Next Saturday, huh? You sure didn’t waste any time.”

”We are going then?”

”We are going.”

She left grinning from ear to ear, a bouquet of pink roses in her hand.

 

What Margaery lovingly called ’slow Saturday mornings’ had became a constant in their household. They’d make coffee and pancakes and watch Bridezillas under a blanket. Usually by noon they were ready to change out of pyjamas and face the world. This morning, having to wake up at 6, Sansa felt like she had been ripped out of her mother’s womb. The take away coffee burned her fingers through the paper cup and smelt more like motor oil than the fine Ethiopian variety Margaery always bought. She regretted choosing a train so early but she was not exactly rolling in money and the tickets had been on sale.

 

High above her the station clock struck eight and the bells tolled unsettlingly. Had her hands not been occupied she would have been undoubtedly chewing her nails. Their train was leaving in five minutes and Theon was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had decided it was a bad idea after all. Who was she, really, to try and fix anyone’s family drama?

 

Finally she spotted a familiar figure approaching, half running, half thrusting something into his backpack. She jammed the second coffee into his hand as soon as he stood before her.

”Thanks! Just woke up.” Theon tried to smooth over the pillow marks on his chin.

”I tried calling you”, she pointed out, trying not to get too annoyed now that he was finally here.

”Sorry. My phone died.”

She rolled her eyes. How did he manage to go through life like that was beyond her.

 

They boarded the train and found their seats in an otherwise empty compartment.

”Mayhaps you packed something for breakfast as well?” Theon gave her bag a hopeful look.

”I got chips.”

”I guess this is not an Enid Blyton novel after all”, his words were accompanied by a heavy sigh.

 

As the train departed, Sansa found herself smiling widely. Whatever it was had to be contagious, as Theon was soon beaming back at her.

”You and me, on the road again”, he said.

”On the rails, to be exact.”

”Ha ha! On the rails! As opposed to off the rails, get it?”

”I’m the one who made the joke, boobhead.”

 

The smile faded from Theon’s face. ”Only this time we’re not running away.”

”This time we have somewhere to return to”, she said and grabbed his hand. A home. A safe haven in the midst of storms. She looked at her reflection on the window, and his behind hers. It looked like it belonged there.

 

”Do you ever think of him? Of Ramsay?”

The question took her by surprise.

”Yeah...”

”Do you miss him?”

Did she? Did she miss a monster capable of inflicting such pain? There had been bruises, curses and words that cut deeper than bone – but there had also been moments he had swept her off her feet.

”I do, sometimes. I did love him.”

Saying it aloud felt like closing a chapter. Almost.

The words were on her lips but she was hesitant to let them go.

”Do you think he ever loved me?”

She wasn’t sure he’d understand why it mattered. She wasn’t sure if she understood herself. Maybe it was to know her suffering wasn’t for nothing. That indeed there was some sense in it, something real.

He was quiet for some time. ”As much as he is able to love someone, I think he did.”

 

She wept, but only a little. And he held her hand as she did.

 

There was a moment of silence as they watched the landscapes pass by. Houses got scarcer and gardens bigger, finally stretching into fields and forests. Traveling by train always made her feel like she was somehow uprooted from time as she knew it, and seeing windmills and stone walls enhanced the impression. Here and there she spotted whisps of silvery mist like fairies having a dance in the grainfield.

 

Sansa noted the change in soundtrack as the rustling of the bag of chips faded into Theon drumming his fingers on the table between them.

”Are you nervous?”

”On a scale of one to ten, ten being _shitting my pants_ scared, I’d say nine and a half.”

Despite him trying to make a laugh out of it, she knew he was serious.

”Hey, it’s going to be alright. She’s your sister. She loves you. That’s what sisters do. We hate your guts and then we make you go shopping with us.”

”Yara’s not the shopping type.”

”That’s beside the point.”

”I know”, he was twiddling with the cord of his charger now, his hands shaking. ”It’s just that… I’m his godfather. And I’ve already screwed it up. I don’t know if I’m fit for a role like that. Shouldn’t it be someone who sets a good example?”

Her heart wrenched. For a moment she cursed the world for being so harsh with its children, leaving them stumble and fall by themselves.

”Well, it’s not like you’ve had much practice”, she said. ”I’m sure you’ll be an amazing godfather. Probably the kind that lets him stay up late and eat ice cream for breakfast. Besides, I think it’s a little premature to start worrying about him using drugs. He’s what, one?”

Lately she couldn’t keep a smile from her face for long when she was around him, and the same seemed to be true for Theon.

”Maybe you’re right.”

”I am right. Not always, but this time”, she gave him a confident smile, much like Arya’s.

”What’s his name, anyway?”  
”Thomas.”

”Goes well with Theon.”

He nodded and smiled.

”Did you get him something?”

”Yeah. FIFA 19.”

She stared at him in disbelief.

”Hey, you gotta start young if you want to be any good.”

A grimace was all he got for an answer.

 

Whatever Sansa was going to say next turned into a deep yawn. They opted to listen to music, sharing Theon’s earphones. Soon the beats in her right ear and the clattering train in her left ear meshed into a pleasant hum. She closed her eyes, just for a moment.

 

She woke up with her head on Theon’s shoulder. As a pillow it was rather bony and uncomfortable, but she was uneager to let it go anyway. She shifted to lean against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. When she lifted her face, she found him looking at her. The morning sun washed his face with gold. It was not mere butterflies in her stomach then, it was a flock of spring swallows.

 

They met in a kiss, soft and lingering. It left her out of breath and with a delicious ache in her chest. Still feeling his breath on her lips she opened her eyes. There was a glimmer of mischief in his.

”Oh no, still a frog. Try again?”

” I promised you a second chance, didn’t I?”

She kissed his smirking face in a way no princess would ever kiss a prince. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The end. Hope you like a mushy, fluffy, cliché ending as much as yours truly! I knew what I wanted for the ending but it was a struggle to write nevertheless. I felt like I owed it a "perfect ending" and couldn't deliver, but in the end I realized it's not going to get any better by me staring at it for any longer. Still, I'm afraid to disappoint you guys.  
> (And let's all just pretend there's such a thing as a train from Edinburgh to Liverpool AND that someone would actually rather take it than go by car. You know, for the sake of the story and the cutesy cuddly things you can do in a train vs. car.)
> 
> I'm super proud of myself for being able to write 50 pages of this, in English, and to actually finish it. And it only took 4 months or so! Never thought I could do that. 
> 
> I want to thank all of you for reading it and leaving your mark as a kudos or comment. <3<3<3 I truly appreciate every single one of them so much! I'll get back to them whenever I feel insecure about my writing. It's been so great to interact with you and share the love for this two fools. And it's been fantastic to know you've enjoyed the story and my intepretation of their characters and relationship. I feel bad for "teasing" you with this, but I actually have an idea for a sequel... However, I need a break from this story and want to write something in Finnish for a change, so who knows if it will ever make it to the page. 
> 
> Take care and thank you for the ride!


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